


Shot in the Dark

by Bebedora



Series: Caught in the Crossfire [2]
Category: Star Trek: Alternate Original Series (Movies)
Genre: Action, Critical injuries, Drama, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Hurt!Jim, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Medical Procedures, Psychological Torture, Torture, Violence, hurt!Bones
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-02-03
Updated: 2015-08-02
Packaged: 2018-01-11 00:34:44
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 22
Words: 103,746
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1166483
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Bebedora/pseuds/Bebedora
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>[Sequel to Caught in the Crossfire]  Kirk returns to the planet that nearly took his life, and is forced to face demons that have been buried for far too long.  Is the war he's trying to fight with himself or the enemy?  [COMPLETE]</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter One

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Saber_Wing](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Saber_Wing/gifts).



Shot in the Dark:  Chapter One

_Captain’s Log, Stardate 2258.249:  We have finished our survey of the Zeta Leporis Star.  Readings indicate that it is burning through its fuel quicker than originally anticipated.  Mister Spock believes that it will collapse on itself within the next fifty to one-hundred years, and form a neutron star in its wake.  Me, I like the ones that go supernova, but I guess we can’t force it, now can we?_

_We’re en route back to Starbase Nine to pick up three new crewmembers and take on supplies.  Then it’s off to Xentia again, and hopefully we’ll be able to remove Ka’al from power with little struggle and the people there can return to their normal lives and not have to worry about a tyrant anymore._

_Admiral Pike has given me our mission logistics for Ka’al’s takedown.  We’re to hide behind Xentia’s lone moon, Ne’nal, for one week, monitoring any communication signals on the planet from a distance.  We need to get a feel for what has happened in the five weeks since we’ve been gone.  I have to say, from what little I saw of Ka’al, I don’t have high hopes that things are going smoothly planet side.  Mak’ai seems to think that he will methodically try and wipe out all remnants of their former culture and replace it with violence and warmongering.  Not to mention killing anyone who tries to get in his way or rebel against him.  She’s afraid that he will ally with the scum of the galaxy, trying to make Xentia known as a feared civilization, and not one of peace and knowledge, like their forefathers had worked for centuries to become._

_Our mission is to covertly make our way to the planet’s surface and find any sort of resistance movement that may have cropped up and team with them.  With their help, we are to infiltrate the capital city and gain access to Ka’al’s stronghold.  There, with their assistance, we will apprehend Ka’al and bring him to justice for his crimes against the Federation and its assets.  With any luck, Ka’al’s group will fall without him to rule over them, and the resistance leaders can take over temporarily until the government can be reinstated.  From what we’ve learned from Mak’ai, Ka’al is feared, not respected, and she believes that the majority of the population will be overjoyed to see him gone.  Once in custody, Ka’al will be brought to trial for his crimes and Starfleet will deal with him as they see fit.  If he should be killed, our alliance with the resistance should be an acceptable reason to have involved ourselves._

_I can’t say I’m one-hundred percent excited to go back to a planet that nearly did me in five weeks ago, but we’re the only ones for the job.  This time we’re better prepared, mostly thanks to Mak’ai and her willingness to help us with the mission.  She will be accompanying us down to the planet, and will be essential in ensuring the success of the operation.  Hopefully, in less than three weeks’ time, we’ll have Ka’al in detention and be speeding back to Earth.  I could use a little R and R back home._

_I miss my bed._

_End log._

XxX   XxX   XxX   XxX   XxX  

 

“Bones, I really don’t need another check-up.”

McCoy crossed his arms over his chest and glared at the Captain.  “Like hell you don’t.  You’re still not at one-hundred percent, Jim.  I need to make sure you’re ready for an away mission.  Now take your shirt off.”

Kirk’s eyes glimmered with mischief.  “Why don’t you help me, _Doctor?_ ”

“Quit being so juvenile.  Don’t make me sedate you.”

Kirk chuckled and dutifully removed his uniform top.  He sat still on the edge of the biobed while McCoy worked his fingers over his shoulder, gently running over the thick pink scar still there.  He palpated the shoulder blade before finally taking Jim’s arm in his hands, rolling the joint around to test range of motion.  “Any pain?  Tingling in your fingers?”

“Nope.”

McCoy held Jim’s arm out straight.  “Keep your arm extended.  Hold it up as long as possible.”  He let go.

Kirk sighed and did as he was told, whistling quietly as he swung his legs absentmindedly.  After a long moment, his arm began to shake, dropping ever so slightly. 

McCoy raised an eyebrow and narrowed his gaze.  Kirk’s arm faltered more, the young Captain struggling to keep it level.  The doctor watched as Jim clenched his jaw.  He shook his head.  “Just what I suspected.  The muscles and joint aren’t strong enough yet.” 

“So?  I can use the arm just fine.”

McCoy scowled.  “Just because you can use it, doesn’t mean it won’t quit on you when you’re up shit creek.”  He pushed Kirk back until he was lying flat on the biobed.  He silently pressed on Jim’s abdomen, concentrating deeply as he moved his nimble fingers across the scars.  He worked his hands around the navel and finally up towards Kirk’s ribs, feeling each one in turn.  He noticed a tiny wince in Jim’s expression.  “Any of this hurt?  And don’t lie to me.”

Jim hesitated.  “N-no.  Nothing hurts.  Just like last time—and the ten times before that.”  Kirk tried to sit up, but the doctor forced him back down. 

“I mean it, dammit.  You need to be truthful.  If I clear you and something goes wrong, it’s my head.”

Jim huffed and looked away.  “Alright, it hurts, okay?”

“Where and how bad?”

Kirk grasped McCoy’s hand and guided it to a spot right under his left lowest rib.  “Here.  And not all the time.  Only when you press on it or we get a little too…active.”

“When did this start?”

Jim exhaled.  “It’s always been there.  Dull and aching.”

“Why didn’t you tell me before?  I could have given you something for pain management.  It’s probably just nerves and muscles healing and getting used to the fact that you’ve no longer have a spleen sittin’ there—I didn’t feel any masses—but you still should have told me.  What if it had been something serious, Jim?”  McCoy could feel his cheeks flushing.  He knew he needed to keep his cool.

“Sorry, okay, Bones?”  Kirk sat up.  “I really thought it was nothing.”

McCoy frowned.  “Don’t keep things from me, darlin’.  You don’t have to suffer in silence.”

Kirk offered a soft smile.  “I was never suffering.  Just uncomfortable once and a while.”  He reached out and patted McCoy’s forearm.  “Don’t worry.”

“ _’Don’t worry’_ he says.  How soon you forget that practically every time you say that, the shit hits the fan and you end up in here bleeding from your ears or nursing a broken something-or-other.”

Kirk grabbed his shirt from the side table and slid it over his head.  “Yeah, but you’re always here to fix it, Bones.”  He stood and grabbed the doctor by the shoulders.  “Am I cleared, or what?”  He raised his eyebrows hopefully.

McCoy rolled his eyes.  “I want you to do two more physical therapy sessions with Nurse Bonham, then I’ll clear you for all active duty and away missions.”  He took a quick look around Sick Bay before pecking Kirk on the cheek.  “And don’t you dare skip out on them.  I’ll find you and make you regret it.”

Kirk smirked wickedly.  “Is that a promise, _Doctor?_ ”

“Get out of here, dammit.  You’re driving me crazy.”

 

XxX   XxX   XxX   XxX   XxX  

 

“Still enjoying our grand ship after five weeks in space?”

Mak’ai smiled warmly at Hikaru Sulu.  The pair sat at a small table in the officer’s mess, Mak’ai a guest of the helmsman.  She stirred her mug of hot cocoa.  “I love it.  Never in my wildest dreams would I have imagined it to be this spectacular.  Besides, I can’t get decadent treats like this on Xentia.  We don’t have chocolate.”  She raised her cup and took a long drink.

“Glad to hear you’ve taken to the _Enterprise_ so warmly.  We’ve got a great crew and one hell of a Captain.” 

Mak’ai savored her warm drink.  “Even though I have only had the honor to travel with you for a relatively short time now, I can say that Captain Kirk’s command is nothing like I have ever experienced before.  He is gentle when he needs to be, but leads with gusto and strength when the situation warrants it.  There’s no one I could equate it to on Xentia.  Our leaders were timid, and while they were wise, they lacked the power to assert themselves if the need should arise.  And look where it got them—Ka’al is in the seat of power and my people are dying.” 

Sulu reached out and patted her hand.  “We’re going to make sure that Ka’al is removed from what he thinks is power.  The Federation won’t let your people down.”

Mak’ai nodded.  “Thank you, Mister Sulu.  I know that Captain Kirk will do everything he can to ensure that my fellow Xentians gain access to the future they deserve, not one that a madman has chosen for them.”  She sighed.  “I just fear for him, having to go back to the place that nearly took his life.”

“Jim Kirk is the toughest man I have ever met.  Yes, he had a serious injury last time. But…”  Sulu shook his head in disbelief.  “…he’s never been one to let the threat of injuries keep him from doing what’s right.  Much to Doctor McCoy’s chagrin.”

Mak’ai chuckled and sipped her beverage.  “So I’ve been told.  I know that he’s the best chance my fellow countrymen have of regaining what was once ours.”

A throat cleared behind them.  “Well, if I have any say in the matter—which I won’t—he’ll be wearing Kevlar and be inside a damn force field the whole time.  Mind if I join you?”

Mak’ai extended her hand towards the vacant seat next to her and watched McCoy sit, setting his tray down on the tabletop.  “Isn’t that a bit excessive, Doctor?”

McCoy scoffed.  “Not when Jim’s concerned.  He has a tendency to attract trouble like a damn rare earth magnet.”

“Well then, I guess body armor is in order then.”

McCoy shook his head while Sulu tried to suppress his laughter.  “Damn fool’d never wear it.  I guarantee he’d bitch about it itching or something, and weasel his way out of putting it on.  I don’t even try anymore.”

“Remember that mission to Aurelon Theta?  I think it was the only time you even got him to try the body armor on and I seem to recall that he actually claimed the suit was turning his skin blue.”  Sulu concentrated, trying to remember more details.  “So, he ditched it and of course, came back to the ship with a spear wound in his back.”

McCoy grunted.  “I almost didn’t fix him that time, just to teach him a lesson.” 

“Hey, my ears are ringing…you guys aren’t talking about me, are you?”

Sulu stood and offered his seat to his Captain.  “Of course not, Sir.”

McCoy turned in his seat to see Jim, smiling broadly, a salad teetering on his hand, cake in the other.  Kirk raised an eyebrow at his helmsman.  “You sure?  Because you all look pretty guilty right now.  Let me guess, Yalaxian fungal spores?  Because that story _is_ pretty damn funny.”

Sulu looked away sheepishly, his voice quiet.  “Actually, it was about your projectile-proof vest…and how you thought it would turn you blue.”

Kirk bellowed out a great laugh.  “You still can’t prove that it _wouldn’t_ have turned me colors.”  He eyed McCoy.

The doctor rolled his eyes.  “That’s because you won’t leave it on long enough to test your incredibly idiotic theory.” 

Sulu excused himself, chuckling as he left the mess hall as Kirk claimed his vacated seat.

McCoy scoffed at Jim’s choice of food as the younger man applied a liberal amount of creamy dressing to his meal.  “Cake _and_ salad?  Well, at least you’re gettin’ some greens in you.”  McCoy shook his head at the Captain.  “Just make sure you finish that salad before you devour that cake.  I know you, and if I wasn’t sitting right here, that dessert would be gone already.”

“ _Yes, mother_.”  Kirk took a bite of the leafy greens. “So Mak’ai, are you getting your studying done for the Academy entrance exams?”

She set her mug down.  “Yes, and it’s been quite a challenge.  And Lieutenant Uhura has been most gracious in lending her time helping me to navigate through all the paperwork for application.”

Jim laughed quietly.  “Yeah, I never had to do any of that paperwork.  Admiral Pike sort of let me in on a technicality.”

“A technicality?”

Kirk nodded, stabbing a cucumber with his fork. His voice became quieter. “My father was First Officer on a ship called the _Kelvin_.  It was destroyed during the first Narada Siege and Pike did a dissertation on the disaster.  I guess he felt bad for me that I grew up without him and had kind of an awful childhood—so he found me and made sure that I joined up.” 

Mak’ai’s expression saddened.  “Ah, yes.  The _Kelvin._   There was a required book for entrance exams on that subject.  It was fascinating.  For your father to give his life so the others on the ship could be saved—he was truly a hero.”

Kirk lowered his eyes to his plate.  “Hero?  He was just doing what he knew was the right thing to do.  It took me a long time to realize that.  When I was a kid I felt abandoned, no thanks in part to my shitty upbringing and him being gone was at the forefront.”  He sighed heavily.  “I…don’t talk about it much; you’ll have to forgive me. It was pretty difficult growing up in someone’s shadow—especially when you never met said person. It’s actually been a long time since I thought about him, now that I think about it.”  Jim’s eyes listed off to the side and he stared off into the distance.

McCoy could sense that Jim was retreating into his thoughts and decided to change the subject.  “So, Mak’ai, Uhura tells me that you’ve began teaching her Xentian.  She any good?”  He reached under the table and patted Jim’s knee, reassuring him with a quick smile.

“Her linguistic ability is unlike anyone I have ever had the pleasure of knowing.  I am simply amazed at how quickly she has picked up on even the littlest nuances of my language.  She has even mastered verbal aggression.  I was in hysterics trying to teach her our foulest words.”

Jim offered a warm smile.  “The Federation’s flagship deserves only the best for her Communications Chief.  I’m glad she’s with us…even if she can get sassy at times.”  He smirked.  “Don’t tell her I said that, though.”

“Your secret is safe with me.”  She winked, then looked to her chronometer.  “I must be going.  I promised Ensign Willems that I would teach him how to prepare a traditional Xentian vegetable casserole.  I’m pleased that your replicator system works so efficiently.  I’ve been able to reproduce almost everything I miss from my home.” 

The two men stood as she did, respectfully saying goodbye.  “Come by Sick Bay later, alright?  You need another round of vaccines to prep you for your arrival on Earth next month.”

Mak’ai nodded. “Of course, Doctor.  Captain, I hope to see you soon.”

“Likewise.  And don’t skip out on those hypos—Bones will hunt you down and stab you when you’re not looking.”

McCoy crossed his arms and rolled his eyes. “That’s only reserved for chickens like you, Jim.”

Mak’ai laughed.  “There is never a dull moment when I’m with you both.  It always makes my day.”  She waved as she turned to leave.

The pair sat once again, Jim scowling at his half-eaten salad.  He stared at it for a long moment before pushing it away from him.  He finally spoke.  “I gotta go, Bones.  Come over later?”  He stood, grabbing his dishes. “Keep the cake; it’s your favorite anyway.”

McCoy looked up at Jim, concern in his eyes.

_Somethin’ spooked him._

“You’re just leaving a perfectly good piece of German chocolate Cake?  You feverish or somethin’?”  He stood and placed a hand on Kirk’s forehead.

The Captain pulled back.  “I’m fine, really.  Just realized that I’m late for my shift.”

McCoy eyed him suspiciously.  “Whatever you say, darlin’.”

Kirk offered a feeble smile.  “Thanks, Bones.”  He grasped the older man’s hand quickly and gave it a tight squeeze before departing. 

McCoy sat once more, pulling Jim’s plate towards him.  As he dug into the chocolaty dessert, he caught a glimpse at his chronometer, and realized that Beta shift didn’t start for another thirty minutes.

 

XxX   XxX   XxX   XxX   XxX  

 

The light of Xentia’s moon shimmering in the distance illuminated the dark cabin, bathing it in an eerie pale blue glow.  The hum of the _Enterprise’s_ engines droned from the bowels of the ship, wafting up through the corridors and walls and into the room.  The two figures lying in the bed under the window were silent, wrapped in each other’s embrace. 

McCoy’s long fingers raked unconsciously through short blonde hair as the pair slept.  The two men curled into each other, one another’s body heat making the need for anything more than a thin sheet unnecessary.  Jim’s toes poked out from underneath the covers, hanging off the edge of the bed. 

Peace was to be short-lived.

Jim burrowed his head into the crook of the doctor’s neck, moaning and grimacing as some unknown dream took hold of him.  His eyelids twitched, jaw clenching as began to push himself away from his bedmate.

The movement startled McCoy awake, and he instinctively brought Kirk closer to him, trying to soothe what he knew was just another in a line of ongoing nightmares. 

The kid had experienced them since their first days at the Academy—Jim had tried to hide it at first, passing them off as simple bad dreams—but McCoy had known different.  At least once a month, Kirk would wake up screaming, slicked in a sheen of cold sweat, trembling to the point of almost vomiting.  He would bolt into the small bathroom they shared and lock himself in, most of the time not emerging until the dawn light filtered through the windows.  McCoy would sit vigil on those nights, eyes centered on the bathroom door, ears hyper-sensitive to the almost inaudible sounds coming from behind it.  He knew Jim was crying.  He could hear the muffled, choked sobs.  He always waited, hoping that his friend would come out and confide in him.

And in the morning, Kirk would appear showered and clean shaven, a broad smile on his face.  No trace of the past night’s episode visible in his expression, his mood.  Cadet reds crisp and pressed, he would grab his PADD and messenger bag and rush out to whatever class he would undoubtedly pass with flying colors without even trying, flashing his signature cocky grin as he met the new day with gusto. 

Never a mention of whatever had plagued him the night before. 

It had taken Jim months to trust McCoy enough to let him into his dream states.  It had started innocently enough, with Kirk finally admitting that he was even experiencing nightmares.  One night, after a particularly tame one—Kirk didn’t retreat into the restroom—Jim shared that he had dreamt of his father. 

_“I can see the Kelvin, Bones.  I can see his face as he steered her into the Narada.”_

Jim had hugged his knees close to his chest and rocked slightly as he recalled the dream.  His eyes were distant and sad.  

_“Only right at the moment of impact, he looks away for just a second…and when he turns back—it’s my face instead.”_

Leonard remembers Jim shuddering at the thought.  Even in the darkness of the dimly-lit room, he could see that the color had drained out of the kid’s face.  That night Jim had stayed awake until morning, Leo sitting quietly by his side listening, allowing McCoy access to years of haunting images and terrible memories.

That night, McCoy learned what it was like to be Jim Kirk.

To live with his demons.

Jim had bared his soul to him, swearing him to secrecy for all he was told.  And Leonard dutifully agreed, honored that Kirk would share himself like that, exposing fears that ran deep, flaws that the young man kept buried under layers of bravado.

_George Kirk._

_Frank._

_Abuse._

_Neglect._

_Booze._

_Jail._

_…Tarsus IV._

Kirk had wept openly by the time he allowed the deluge relating to Tarsus cascade from his mouth.  McCoy could tell by the way he wrapped his arms around himself, how he buried his face in his hands, as if he were hiding from the awful truth, that he hadn’t talked about this shit in a long time.

Possibly ever.

Leo nearly broke as Jim recalled the events of the genocide in the ill-fated colony.  The terror in his friend’s eyes as the name “Kodos” escaped from his lips—McCoy had never seen Jim that afraid.  And the fact that he was actually sitting in the same room with one of the Tarsus Nine?  Leo didn’t know whether to cry for his friend or worry for his own safety now that he knew.

McCoy knew Jim was taking a huge risk revealing his identity to him, as no one knew what had happened to the Tarsus Nine, and some even doubted their existence at all.  As years’ worth of pent up frustration, fear and uncertainty tumbled from Kirk’s trembling lips, Leonard couldn’t help but think of his own upbringing.  He had been happy, well-fed, never neglected.  He thought back to what he had to have been doing when Jim was on Tarsus. 

Graduating from high school.  His first time with a woman.  Cavorting around his family’s property in his grandfather’s beat up pickup truck, not worrying about when his next meal would be or if he would be beaten that night.

And all the while, across the galaxy in some shithole dying colony, Jim was fighting for his life and starving.  Leo felt like such an ass for complaining about his life sometimes. 

This monthly—sometimes weekly, if Jim was particularly plagued by something—tradition of recovering from dreams just became a regular part of their relationship.  They never spoke of it outside of the actual incidents; in fact, McCoy could tell that Jim would be purposely distant the day after an event.  Then they would go back to normal, continuing on with their everyday lives.  Jim annoying the shit out of McCoy, acing his classes, bar fights and loose women.  And secretly, Leonard would bide his time, knowing that the next difficult night could be just around the corner.

This went on for months—years—always changing, growing in their relationship.  More times than not, Jim would welcome a soothing pat on the back or a shot of something strong—whichever happened to be readily available at the time.  But there would also be those times where Kirk would retreat into his mind, still barricading himself in the bathroom, only emerging when tears would no longer fall from dry and exhausted eyes.

Whatever the situation was, however Jim reacted to the terrifying images that beleaguered his tormented dreams, Leo was always there.  And he vowed to always be. 

So by this time in their relationship, Leo knew just what to do.  He gently rubbed Jim’s cheek and whispered in his ear as the young man tried to squirm away from him.

“Shhh, darlin’.”  He buried his face into Jim’s pillow, bringing his mouth closer to his Captain’s face.  “It’s alright, Jim.  I’m right here.”

Kirk began to thrash, arms flailing even as they were being held back by McCoy’s own.  His breathing was fitful and uneven. 

“No!  Dad!”

Jim sat bolt upright in bed, shoving McCoy away with such force that the doctor was nearly knocked off the side.  Kirk sat, hunched over and gasping for breath.  His whole body quaked violently, causing the mattress to shake underneath them.  Leonard inched closer slowly, raising his arm to wrap around Jim’s shoulders.  For a moment, Kirk flinched at his touch, but soon melted into McCoy’s embrace and allowed the doctor to fully encompass him with his strong arms.  Kirk nuzzled his chin into McCoy’s shoulder, pressing his face into the crook of his neck.

“Want to tell me about it?”

Kirk shook his head and uttered a muffled response.  “I haven’t had that dream in a long time.”

McCoy knew which one he was talking about.

_“…Only right at the moment of impact, he looks away for just a second…and when he turns back—it’s my face instead…”_

He sighed and held Jim closer.  He knew what Kirk needed at that moment was silence and a warm body to hold him tight.  Leonard knew that the tears would come soon enough, and when Jim was done letting loose the flood of emotions that were no doubt running rampant in his brain, he would open up.

They sat in each other’s embrace for a good ten minutes, Jim’s hiccupping sobs lessening as time went by.  The younger man finally pulled away and lay back on his pillow, McCoy following suit and moved in close to Kirk.

Jim sighed heavily and closed his eyes.  “I think Mak’ai bringing up the _Kelvin_ today stirred something up, you know?”

Leonard slid his arm under Jim’s shoulders to hold him closer.  “I could tell.  You should have stuck around and talked right then.  I might have saved you from the dream.”

“I just needed some time to myself, Bones.  I’m sorry I didn’t—“

McCoy leaned over and quickly kissed him, stopping the words coming out of his mouth.  He held his lips against Kirk’s for a long moment.  When he finally pulled away, he smoothed his thumb over Jim’s cheek.  “Don’t ever apologize for needing to get away, darlin’.  You’ve seen shit in your life that no one should ever have to go through.  If you need to retreat every once and a while to deal with it, then damn everybody else.  They can suck a rock.” 

Jim smiled softly.  “I just don’t want you to think that I don’t need you.  But…”

“But nothin’, Jim.  You don’t have to explain yourself.  I know that you always come to me when you’re ready.  And you should know that I’ll always be waiting.  For whatever you have to throw at me.”

Kirk nodded silently and curled up next to McCoy.  They stayed that way for a long moment before Jim’s voice pierced the silence.  “Why do you love me?  I’m so damn broken.”

_Because someone needs to be around to fix you._

“Who the hell knows, kid?  Love doesn’t let you choose…it just happens.”  He laid his cheek on Jim’s hair, the short locks tickling his face.  “But I’m glad love chose you.  No one else could deal with your shit, that’s for sure.”

Kirk snorted.  “I’m glad it’s you, Bones.”

“Me too, Jim.”  He pulled the covers up over them, then turned on his side to face Kirk.  He stared into his heavenly blue eyes, astonished that they could still sparkle brilliantly in such low lighting.  He offered a warm smile.  “Now get some sleep.  You’ve got to start monitoring Ka’al in the morning so we can get the hell out of here in a reasonable amount of time— _safely_ —and get back to Earth.”  He kissed him tenderly.  “Because once we’re back home, you’re going on mandatory shore leave for a minimum of two weeks.  Chief Medical Officer’s orders.”

Jim smiled, his eyes crinkling at the sides.  “Only if you’ll join me, Bones.”

McCoy scoffed and rolled over.  “Who the hell do you think’s planning the vacation?  Now go to sleep.”

 

XxX   XxX   XxX   XxX   XxX  

 

_A/N:  Well, here it is!  The sequel to Caught in the Crossfire.  Huge shout-out to my good friend, Saber Wing, for the title.  She can vouch for me that I had many a temper tantrum trying to come up with one.  She saved me from tearing my hair out and for that; she will get cookies in her mailbox.  So, thank you, girlie!_

_And of course, mad props to my beta QuietRaine.  Thank you, lady!_

_I hope everyone enjoys this piece as much as the last one and thank you in advance to all that read!  I look forward to hearing what you think._

_\--Bebedora_


	2. Shot in the Dark:  Chapter Two

Shot in the Dark:  Chapter Two

**One Week Later**

_“What’s the situation on Xentia?  Any anomalous readings or signals from Ka’al?”_

Jim Kirk shook his head at the image of Admiral Pike on his holo screen.  “No, Sir.  Although we’ve scanned enough to make up-to-date maps for our battle plan, we haven’t been able to get word from the surface.  Either he’s shielding everything—or he’s banned all forms of electronic communication for the public.  Mak’ai seems to think that it’s the latter.”

_“Based on what?”_

“From what she knows of Ka’al, she believes that one of his first steps to domination would have been to render the people submissive.  She’s pretty sure he’ll stop all technology from being used, take away their rights, and impose curfews.  She…”  Kirk hesitated, exhaling deeply.  His voice quieted.  “…she thinks he’ll start public executions soon, if he hasn’t already.  Anyone who denies his right to govern—or who he sees as a threat.”

_“Does she have any ideas about who would be considered threatening?”_

“Scientists, teachers, doctors.  Anyone who has an education, basically.”  Kirk drank his coffee.  “The majority of the population is highly educated.  That means everyone is at risk.  And Ka’al isn’t one to mess around.  He won’t hesitate to make examples of people.”

Pike sighed on the screen.  _“Well then, I guess it’s time we moved on the planet.  We can’t risk innocents any more than we need to.  Have you and your team decided on a plan of attack?”_

“Yes, Sir.  Mak’ai has a close friend on the surface who she feels would more than likely be a member of any resistance group that has cropped up.  Possibly even a leader.  She’s confident that this friend can be located and will offer assistance.”

Pike shook his head slightly.  _“You’ll have to understand why I’m leery of putting our faith in an unknown source.  It’s not that I don’t trust Mak’ai—after all, she’s proved herself to be a friend of the Federation—but how do we know we can depend on a group that may not even be large enough to help?  I’m concerned that you’d be running into a situation with others that will not be as well prepared as your team.”_

“That’s just a risk we have to be willing to take.  The majority of Xentians may be more educationally minded than Ka’al, but they aren’t weak.  Mak’ai proved that to us on more than one occasion.  They’ll be ready to fight, you can count on it.”

_“Make sure you bring enough firepower with you to defend yourselves and any innocents.  I’m prepared to…look the other way when it comes to technology sharing on this one.”_

“Breaking rules now, Admiral?  Very rebellious.”

Pike snorted.  _“Don’t get cheeky, Kirk.  I know that the Prime Directive is important, but this tyrant and his monsters almost killed you…and will kill innocent Xentians if they’re not stopped.  Had you not been injured, we wouldn’t have any reason to interfere.  But, since you decided to get yourself shot to high heaven last time and we lost a shuttle in the process, it looks like we have the right to go back and make Ka’al pay for his crimes against the Federation.  Just happening to save the people of Xentia in the process helps both sides.”_

“I couldn’t agree more.”

_“Has your Chief Engineer solved your issues regarding the magnetic interference on the planet?”_

“Yes, Sir.  Scotty tweaked the communicators to be able to send a stronger signal.  Unfortunately though…”  Pike scowled on the screen.  “…we still can’t buff the transporters enough to beam through the interference.  We’re still going to have to land pretty far away from the city.  At least it gives us the advantage of surprise.”

_“And the disadvantage of not having the luxury of a hasty getaway.  I’m not sure I feel comfortable sending you down there without an escape route close at hand.”_

Kirk sighed.  “Sir, with all due respect, this is our only chance.  We can’t let a little magnetic interference get in our way.  We have a way down to the planet, albeit not most preferable, and we’ll just have to hoof it back to the extraction site.  Ka’al will be in custody by that time, and I’m confident that we won’t meet any resistance in leaving.”

_“Alright, James.  If you think your team is ready and Mak’ai will be able to find her friend, then you’ve got your permission to go planet side.  I want it noted that I’m still not one-hundred percent in agreement with your transporter situation.  Have Mister Scott working up until the last possible minute on a solution.”_

Kirk offered a small smile.  “Thank you, Sir.  I’m confident that we can take care of this matter quickly—and quietly.  With luck, we’ll be headed back to Earth in less than ten days, with Ka’al in custody.”

_“Remember, this mission is under the radar.  Make sure your crew understands that.  And Jim?”_ Kirk silently raised his eyebrows.  _“Be careful.  I’d like it if you’d return to your ship in better condition this time.  Preferably not bleeding out on the transporter pad.”_ Pike smiled warmly.  _“Good luck, Captain.  I’m counting on you to take care of this madman—and not get yourself killed in the process.  Report back to me as soon as you have the bastard.”_

“Yes, Sir.”

Pike’s image blinked out of existence, replaced by the Federation insignia.  Kirk turned in his chair and stared out at the black.  He watched the stars and planets in the distance in silence for a long moment. 

_Are you sure you’re ready to go down there again?_

_Ka’al won’t show any mercy._

_Don’t fuck this up._

_Bones will kill you if you get hurt again._

_…everything’s going to be okay…_

XxX   XxX   XxX   XxX   XxX

 

“Everyone sit down so we can start.”

Spock, McCoy, Chekov, Mak’ai and the three chosen security officers took their seats in the _Enterprise’s_ conference room.  All eyes were glued on their young Captain settling himself at the head of the table. 

“Now, before we get down to business, I just want to remind everyone in this room that this mission is high-priority.  Admiral Pike has given the orders himself.”  Kirk eyed every member of the landing party.  “That being said, this assignment is also classified.  Only a few select officers of the bridge crew will have knowledge of the mission aside from us, and they’ve already been made aware of the logistics.  Nothing that is said in this room is to leave this room, understood?  ”

The landing party members all uttered a unison, “ _Yes, Sir.”_

“The rest of the crew only knows the bare basics of why we’re back here.  As far as they’re concerned, we’ve come back to apprehend Ka’al for his crimes against the Federation, not to assist in a resistance movement.  As we’re all aware, that would violate the Prime Directive.”

Kirk shifted in his seat.  “Admiral Pike has given us permission to join up with and help any resistance groups for multiple reasons.  Our official goal is to apprehend Ka’al and bring him to trial on Earth.”  He exhaled deeply and licked his lips.  “Helping the resistance movement is kind of like an unofficial ‘thank you’ from Starfleet to the people of Xentia for saving the lives of me, Mister Spock and Doctor McCoy.”

McCoy visibly stiffened when Kirk mentioned the previous occurrences on the planet.  Jim offered a quick and almost unnoticeable nod and reassuring smile in his direction before continuing.

“While we undertake both missions, there is a chance that Ka’al will be killed in the process.  Obviously, we want to take him into custody at all costs, but if he should die, we ‘need an out’, so to speak.  It would look very bad upon Starfleet if it looked like we assassinated a government head, especially one that is on a planet that technically isn’t a member of the Federation.  Even if he’s a false leader, we need to cover ourselves.  That’s where Mak’ai and her resistance friends come in.  If Ka’al should happen to bite the dust, Mak’ai has assured us that the resistance groups would be more than happy to assume responsibility for removing him from power—permanently.”  Kirk’s smile was a tiny bit mischievious. 

“So, if anyone has any objections to participating in this mission based on its covert parameters, please speak now and I’ll remove you from the team, no questions asked.  I don’t want any of you to feel as if you are being forced to go along with these somewhat surreptitious plans.”  He glanced around the table, eyes lingering longer on McCoy.  The doctor scowled and slowly lowered his eyes to the screen in front of him.

The crew was silent for a moment before a voice laden with a heavy Russian accent spoke up.  “Keptin, I don’t vant to speak for anyone else…”  Chekov looked around at his shipmates.  “…but zat bastard almost killed you.  He needs to be dealt vith, by any means necessary.  And I for one am glad zat you chose me to help.” 

Kirk smiled at his young Navigator.  “Thank you for your honesty, Mister Chekov.  I feel the same.”  The Captain looked around the table.  “Anyone else want to say something?”  He glanced at McCoy, and his gaze met pursed lips and furrowed brows.  No one at the conference table uttered a word.

“Okay then.”  He tapped a few commands into the keypad recessed into the tabletop and a map of Xentia’s surface appeared on all the screens in front of them. “This is a composite map of Xentia that we’ve been able to manufacture from various scans.  We’ve superimposed current buildings and features onto the existing map we had in the computer.”

Mak’ai sighed, and spoke quietly under her breath.  “So much has changed…”

Kirk offered her a sympathetic glance.  “I know it might be hard to look at, but we’re really going to need your guidance if we want to take Ka’al out.”

“I understand, Captain.  It’s just very difficult to look at these images and see ruins of grand buildings that were standing just over a month ago.”  She tapped her claw over a region on the map that showed a pile of rubble.  The action caused all the screens to snap to the same location.  “This used to be the Music Conservatory.  I learned to sing there when I was a child.  And now it’s been decimated.”

“That is the precise reason why we need to act quickly.  Removing Ka’al from authority is the only way to ensure that your people and your culture will survive.”  Spock spoke stoically at Kirk’s side. 

“And that’s why we’re going down there tomorrow.  We’re not going to let him destroy anything else.”  Kirk offered a warm smile in Mak’ai’s direction.  “So let’s get down to business so we can drag him back to the ship in chains before the week is out.”

Mak’ai nodded and stared back at her screen.

“Mister Spock, would you care to fill us in on the basics?”

“Of course, Captain.”  The First Officer tapped a few commands into his PADD and the maps on the holo screens began to move.  “As you can see, capitol city sits in a valley, flanked on all sides by rolling hills and dense forest.  Our landing site is located on the western side of the largest hill, approximately two-point-three miles from the city gates.”

A gruff voice came from the end of the table.  “Why the hell are we beaming down so far away?”

“If we were to land closer to the city, we run the risk of being seen.  We will need to make camp for several days to observe, and our presence would no doubt be brought to Ka’al’s attention should we remain any closer to the city. We are more than able to make the trek towards the capitol on foot.”

McCoy muttered under his breath.  “Dammit, I’m a doctor, not a mountain man.”

 “I’m sure you’ll do just fine, _Doctor._   We all need to be on the same page here, even when it comes to something as simple as base camp.”  Kirk shot him a look of ‘ _we’ll talk about this later…in private.’_

Spock continued.  “After monitoring Ka’al from a distance along with Mak’ai’s promised assistance of locating her friend, we will form our plan of attack and move on the capitol.”  He moved the map to hover over the central square.  “The city is made up of multiple large buildings, several of which have been destroyed.  The capitol building proper has remained un-damaged, and we believe this is where Ka’al has taken up residence.”

“Thank you, Mister Spock.  Now, even though we haven’t formally met with any resistance members yet, we’ve already come up with a makeshift plan on how might take Ka’al down.  Once we team up with Mak’ai’s friend, our main goal is to get into the city undetected.”  Kirk changed the view on the map, zeroing in on the western side of the city.  It was a small residential neighborhood.  “Our friend here feels that this is the best place to make our entry.  Why don’t you tell us, Mak’ai.”   

“Certainly, Captain.”  Mak’ai zoomed in on the edge of the forest flush with the city limits.  “It is in our best interest to enter the city as far away from Ka’al as possible.  This area here has always been…forgotten.  The houses are very old; most of the residents have been there for generations.  It is one of the poorer neighborhoods in the capitol.  Ka’al and his cronies will more than likely stay away from the area.  There’s nothing of value there, and the people live quietly.  And it also happens to be where my friend lives.  If the resistance movement is thriving underground, it’ll be there.”

One of the security officers voiced his concern.  “With all due respect, Captain, Miss, what if the resistance doesn’t exist?  Or this friend of hers isn’t willing to help?”

Kirk turned his chair to face the young officer.  “That’s a fair point, Lieutenant Wilcox.  I know that it seems like we’re putting an awful lot of faith in a group that may not even exist.  But we have to be prepared.  Mak’ai feels that there is a very good chance that at least one rebel faction has been created.  The likelihood of us finding one and allying with them is high.  Whether or not her friend is participating, well…that’s just one we’ll have to leave to fate.”

Wilcox sighed with a scowl.  “I just feel like we’re going into this blind.  Forgive me if I seem unwilling to listen, Sir, it’s not my intention.  As a security officer, it’s my job to have plans for every instance we might encounter.  It bothers me that we don’t know for sure if this friend even exists.”

Kirk’s attention turned to their alien friend, who looked at him with pleading eyes.  “Is there something you’d like to add, Mak’ai?”

“I don’t blame you for not wanting to trust me fully, Lieutenant.  Ka’al has given our people bad name.  But you must believe me when I say that I would bet my life that my friend has formed a resistance party…or at least is part of one.”  She sighed, her expression solemn and her shoulders sagging.  “My government leaders may not have seen Ka’al’s actions coming, but members of everyday society did.  These groups have been in existence since Ka’al came on the scene.  Even back then, they knew that he was up to no good.  They weren’t given an opportunity to voice their opinions before, and it cost our people dearly.  I pray that they have already begun fighting for our freedom.”

Kirk eyed the Lieutenant.  “Is there anything more you wanted to add Wilcox?”

“No, Sir.  I understand where she’s coming from now.”  He looked to Mak’ai with a sympathetic expression.  “I apologize if I came off as brash.  I just need to protect my Captain and the crew.”

Mak’ai offered a warm smile.  “No need to apologize.  I know that trusting someone you barely know with the safety of a mission as large as this one can’t be easy.  I just hope that you can believe in me enough to realize that I want nothing more than for this to end quickly and without anyone being hurt.  I know that freedom doesn’t come without a price.  I already feel terrible that Captain Kirk’s blood has been shed for Xentia, and I pray that no more will spill—for either side.  I have a horrible feeling that there has been too much bloodshed already.”

“Me too, Mak’ai.  That’s why we need to figure out our plan of attack so we can get rid of Ka’al and give your people a fighting chance at freedom.” Kirk smiled, his eyes crinkling at the sides.  “So, as I was saying before the interruption, once we gain access to the city, our main goal will be to infiltrate the capitol building and apprehend Ka’al.  Preferably undetected.  Mak’ai tells us that there is a system of old, unused tunnels underneath the capitol square that we may be able to use to get into the building.  Once we sneak in, we’ll capture Ka’al and high tail it back to the extraction zone.”

“Sounds too easy.”  McCoy grumbled from his end of the table, reclining back in his seat with his hands clasped tightly on his abdomen.  “You really think Ka’al is just going to give up like that?”  He snapped his fingers.

“I never said he was going to go quietly, Doctor.  Or easily.  But this is our best option right now.  If the situation changes planet side, then we’ll deal with it as the circumstances roll.”  He eyed the doctor quickly before moving on.  “Now, Mister Chekov, you’ll be in charge of making sure we don’t get lost. Study those maps hard tonight; I want to make sure you know exactly where we’re going.  I’m sure Mak’ai would be happy to help.”

“Aye, Keptin.  I can do zat.”

“Good.  Alright, let’s keep going.”  Kirk brought up a grainy photo of Ka’al.  “This picture was provided by Mak’ai.  The quality isn’t the best, as it was taken from a distance on a mobile device, but it’s the best we have.  Doctor McCoy, would you and Mak’ai like to give us a run-down on Ka’al and the Xentians’ the bio-luminescence? 

McCoy sat forward in his chair and cracked his knuckles.  A moment later he had enlarged the photo of the tyrant.  “Well, the bastard’s big.  He towered over the other Xentians I saw in his general vicinity.  Mak’ai, is he of abnormal height?”

“Yes.  Most Xentians’ height is relatively in line with that of humans.  I remember hearing once that he suffered from a medical condition that caused him to grow out of control as a child.  But, rumors spread quickly and it may have been propaganda.”

McCoy continued.  “So, we’ve got that to contend with.  In looking at his muscle structure from this photo and remembering what I saw of him, he’s very strong.  I feel that if we are to take him without a fight, we’re going to need to stun him.  And since we don’t have any data on Federation-issue weapons use on Xentians—and I would like to avoid stunning our wonderful friend here as a test—we’re just going to have to hope that the damn things work.  Otherwise, we’re going to be in a lot of trouble.”

“If I may add something, Doctor?”  Mak’ai sat forward in her chair.  “I mentioned to you before about beta-waves.  I believe that they can be used to our advantage.”

“How so?”

“While we all emit them, if we are exposed to high levels of beta waves, our internal ‘wiring’—so to say—can become compromised.  In my studies in medical school, we were always warned against coming in contact with anything that emits high levels.”  She paused for a long moment as she thought.   “Is there any way you can calibrate your phasers to include a powerful beta burst in the shot?  It should incapacitate him for quite a while, and allow you to take him into custody.”

Kirk raised his eyebrows and looked to another security officer.  “Lieutenant Xin?  Is that something you think you’d be able to do?”

“Possibly?”  The young woman furrowed her brows.  “But it would take a lot of fine tuning, Sir.  I’m not confident I have enough time to rig the phaser to provide a strong enough jolt.”

“Do whatever you can do, and try to make sure all the weapons going down with us have the new capability.  It’ll have to be enough.”

Xin nodded.  “Yes, Sir.  I’ll get right on it.”

“Mak’ai, would you mind filling us in on your bio-luminescence?”  Kirk spun in his chair to face her again.    “Just a brief overview of the colors should be good, so the security team and Mister Chekov know what to look for.”

“Of course, Captain Kirk.”  Mak’ai smiled broadly, and began to glow a radiant green.  “As you can see, I am glowing green.  It is because I am happy.  Our people have the ability to glow many different colors based on mood and environment.  It’s a reaction in the upper layer of our skin due to special cells that work in tandem with our brains.  It isn’t something we can control—or turn off.  Usually, the glow is quite dull and sometimes non-existent to the untrained eye, but I assure you it is always there.”  She paused for a moment, and appeared to be deep in thought.  Her expression softened, and her eyes took on a sad look.  Within seconds, her skin began to radiate yellow.  “As you can see, my color has shifted.  I am sad.  I purposely remembered my bother Amari, who was killed by Ka’al years back.”

As she spoke of Ka’al, her hue changed once again, this time to a bright crimson.  She clenched her jaw and stretched her clawed fingers out in a fierce motion.  “And now I am angry.  Angry at Ka’al for the atrocities he has befallen on my people and planet.”  She took a cleansing breath and her color returned to a pale green.  “If you see people glowing orange, they are afraid.  Blue light is the sign of compassion and sympathy.  Learn these changes and keep them in your minds.  They will save your life—and tell you who is friend of foe.”

“Thank you, Mak’ai.  Your help is priceless to us.”  Kirk then turned his attention to his First Officer.  “Mister Spock, can you guess what the situation will be once we take Ka’al into custody?”

“Certainly, Captain.  I would theorize that once Ka’al is removed from power, there would be some sort of uprising amongst his followers.  However, in speaking with Mak’ai during the planning process, I am confident that any violence within those ranks will be quickly diminished and should die out swiftly.  Without Ka’al to lead them, they will be lost, and will more than likely follow the new leaders—hopefully with a better outcome.  There is the possibility that a fair amount of Ka’al soldiers will be imprisoned after the fall of their leader, and we must not rule out the probability that one of his underlings may want to take back control.”

Kirk scowled slightly.  “I know, Spock.  But that’s the least of our concerns right now.  Mak’ai has told me that she feels there really isn’t anyone in Ka’al’s ranks that could rise to power.  He made sure of that, right?”

Mak’ai nodded.  “Ka’al would never be stupid enough to recruit someone who could overtake him.  He only allowed followers into his ranks, no one with any aspirations was allowed.”

Kirk looked back to Spock.  “See?  No worries.”

McCoy snorted from the other end of the table, Spock raising an eyebrow at them both.  “I am merely making sure that you are aware of all possible outcomes, Captain.  It would be illogical to assume that the mission be without setbacks, as well as Xentia’s recovery.”

“Understood, Spock.  Thank  you.”  Kirk looked down at his screen.  “Now that we’ve gone over the city basics, Xentian physiology and mission logistics, is there anything else anyone wants to add before we end this meeting?”

The officers were silent. 

“Alright then.  We transport down at oh-seven-thirty tomorrow morning.  Meet in Transporter Room Three fifteen minutes prior.  Supplies are being packed as we speak, and I expect all weapons and Med Kits to be ready and in working order.  Pack your personal supplies accordingly for at least a six day stay.”  Kirk stood.  “Let’s make this fast, efficient and safe.  Dismissed.”

The crew gathered their PADDs and belongings and left, leaving Captain and CMO alone.  As they approached one another and McCoy wrapped his arms around Kirk, the younger man could be heard whispering softly.

_“It’ll be okay, Bones.  We’re all going to be okay…”_

XxX   XxX   XxX   XxX   XxX

 

“You wanna watch another one, Bones?”  Jim stood in front of the holo-player, rifling through his collection of movie chips.

Leonard yawned and stretched his arms back.  “Are you serious?  How soon you forget that we both have to be up in less than six hours.”  He rose from the couch in Kirk’s quarters and strode towards Jim.  Taking the younger man into his arms, he held him there for a moment before speaking.  “I better go; we both need to get some sleep.” 

Jim leaned back and pouted.  “You’re not staying here tonight?”

“You know what would start happenin’ if I did.  And we can’t afford to be exhausted—either of us.”  He leaned in a kissed Kirk quickly on the forehead.  “Now let go.”

Kirk, ever disobedient, squeezed his arms tighter around Leonard.  “Nope.  You’re staying.  Captain’s orders."  Jim began walking backwards, pulling the pair towards the bedroom.

McCoy tried to plant his feet firmly.  “C’mon, Jim.  I’m tired and I don’t want to deal with your shit tonight.  Quit being a child and let me go.”

Kirk pulled harder, his hands moving down from McCoy’s back and into his belt loops, eliciting a low growl from the older man.  “I promise we’re just going to sleep.  No hanky-panky—not that I wouldn’t like a little pre-mission nookie.”  He nuzzled his chin into McCoy’s neck.

“I hate you, you know.”  He allowed himself to be dragged into the bedroom. 

After a several minutes, they were both dressed for sleep and nestled under the covers, the lights lowered to almost pitch-black.  Jim’s voice cut through the silence of the room.

“Bones?”

McCoy scooted closer to Jim, sliding his arm under the other man and pulling him close.  He kept his eyes closed as he answered.  “Yeah, kid?”

“Thanks for not getting all ‘mother hen’ on me in the meeting today.”

“Hey, give me a little more credit, wouldja?  I may have wanted to jump up and proclaim that we were heading back to Earth that instant, but I know when I need to be professional.”  He threaded his fingers through Jim’s. “’Doesn’t mean I still can’t be scared outta my mind though.  Ka’al is very dangerous, Jim.  We think we know what he’s capable of, but my gut tells me to expect surprises.”

Kirk yawned and rolled over on his side to face McCoy.  “I’m scared too, Bones.  Believe it or not, I’m not super stoked about going back there.  I mean, I almost died last time.”

“Tell me something I don’t know.”  McCoy shook his head and looked past Kirk into the dark room.  He closed his eyes with a heavy sigh.  “Promise me I won’t have to take any bullets out of you this time, okay?”

Kirk smiled in the darkness and leaned in, cupping his hands around McCoy’s face.  “I promise.”  He kissed the older man tenderly.  Jim released Leonard’s cheeks and lay back onto his pillow.  This time it was him that wrapped his strong arms around McCoy.  “We’ll be back on the ship before you know it, safe and sound.”

Leonard pressed his ear to Jim’s bare chest and listened to the steady beat of the heart contained within.  He could feel his eyes closing.  “I love you, dammit.”


	3. Chapter 3

Shot in the Dark: Chapter Three

                The lush Xentian forest was aflutter with activity. Native birds screamed overhead, their brightly colored feathers rustling as they glided effortlessly on invisible air currents. Small mammalian creatures scurried along tree branches high above the forest floor, peering down at the strange beings that trudged through the thick underbrush.

The silence of the group of humans was occasionally broken by a grunt of annoyance and a slap at an insect bite. One of them grumbled loudly as his pants got snared on a barbed vine. They all carried equipment in their hands, their backs bearing the weight of large knapsacks.

After walking for nearly thirty minutes, the party stopped in a small clearing. They all set their various gear down, stretching their backs and arms, while taking in their surroundings.   One hissed in pain quietly as he rolled his shoulder around.

“Don’t think I didn’t hear that, Jim.” McCoy sidled up next to the Captain and frowned. He grabbed Kirk’s shoulder and dug his fingers into the fabric of his shirt, feeling a knot underneath the skin. He began to knead the taught muscle with his palm. “You okay?”

“Just stiff from carrying my pack. Don’t worry, Bones.” Kirk closed his eyes and exhaled deeply. “That’s helping tremendously, though.”

McCoy kept working the muscles underneath his fingertips, Jim growling with his touch. He slowed his ministrations and finally stopped. Looking around and seeing no one watching them, he quickly pecked Kirk on the cheek. “I better knock this off. Sounds like you’re enjoying it way too much.”

Kirk pouted as McCoy pulled away. “Of course I am! Your hands are magic.”

“Quit moping, you infant. If you’re a good boy, I’ll do it again later.” He picked up his Med Kit and walked towards the rest of the party, Jim hot on his heels. When they joined the crew, McCoy immediately busied himself with the medical equipment containers.

“To think, I had almost forgotten how hot it was down here.” Kirk fanned his face with his hand, speaking to no one in particular. He looked to his left, where he found Spock, Chekov and the security team unpacking various small supply chests to set up base camp. He snickered quietly at the sight of his First Officer, clad in civilian clothes.  He rarely got to see the Vulcan dressed as such. They had all beamed down without Starfleet uniforms, unwilling to draw any unnecessary attention to themselves. Even though they would be recognized in an instant anyway because of their humanoid appearance, at least the absence of Starfleet uniforms would not make them stick out like a sore thumb instantly.

Everyone was wearing black or brown trousers, and their colored tunics had been left behind on the _Enterprise._ They had all settled on muted colors for tops, in various styles, as well as standard boots.   Mak’ai wore the traditional Xentian garb she had met them in, although Kirk’s blood had long since been washed away.

Lieutenants Wilcox and Xin worked unpacking the weapons cache they had brought with them. Xin had been successful in installing a small chip within each rifle and phaser that would emit beta waves along with any stun shot. The only problem had been efficiency. Without a proper subject to test it on, there was no way to know whether or not it would even work. They would just have to hope it would be enough to take any threatening Xentian down.

The young Captain watched as McCoy rifled through his Med Kits, taking inventory of the supplies. He knelt down beside him. “Do you really think the inventory has changed since we left the ship? Or maybe some sort of gremlin got in there and ate all the regenerators?”

“Knock it off, Jim.” Leonard rolled his eyes and grunted. “You know how anal I get about my supplies. If anything is out of place, it can jeopardize someone’s life.”

“You’re not even going to have to use anything, I promise.”

McCoy scoffed, counting hyposprays. “That’s like a lion promising not to eat the zebra next to him on the savannah.”

“You’ll see. We’re going to nab Ka’al and be back on the ship before you know it. The new phasers will stun his ass and we’ll sneak off into the night.”

_I hope._

_I’m worried._

_Can’t let Bones sense it, though._

“You’re makin’ promises your big mouth can’t keep, Jim, and you know it.” The doctor never looked up from his equipment.

Kirk dismissed him. “Bones, I have confidence in our weapons techs. They made the proper modifications and I know they’ll work. Have a little faith.”

McCoy finally turned to face the young Captain, brows furrowed, hand tightly gripped around a hypospray. “My faith abandoned me a long time ago, kid. Now all I have left is-“

“…your bones.” Kirk sighed, watching as McCoy’s eyes drifted back to his supplies, tired and sad. Jim leaned over and gently placed his hand atop the Doctor’s. “But you’re wrong, Bones. You have your career, your beautiful daughter…you have me.”

McCoy sighed and let his head droop. “Dammit, Jim, I know that. You and Joanna are the best things that have ever happened to me.” He blew out a long breath. “It’s just this place. Last time we were here this goddamn planet nearly took you from me. So you’ll have to excuse me if my lack of faith seems outlandish. I just want to get the bastard and go home without any trouble.”

Jim tightened his fingers around Leonard’s hand. “Believe me; I want that more than anyone. The last thing I want is to lose anyone on this away team. I don’t want to lose _you._ ”

“Well then let’s make this quick so we can get the hell off this godforsaken planet and never look back.”

Kirk released McCoy’s hand. “You got it. You need any help with this stuff?” He grabbed a handful of hyposprays. The doctor immediately snatched them out of his hand.

“Gimme those, dammit. Get outta here, wouldja? You’re making me lose count.”

Kirk stood, grabbing McCoy’s shoulder for leverage. He squeezed his fingers around the Doctor’s shoulder reassuringly, feeling the older man’s shoulders relax ever so slightly as he pulled away. Jim stretched his arms over his head and looked for someone else to bother.

_Spock? No, he’s calibrating equipment._

_Wilcox and Xin. Nah…they’re dealing with weapons. Don’t want to distract them._

_Mak’ai is foraging for some lunch…_

_Chekov! Better not…he looks really busy._

Kirk approached the other member of the security team, Ensign Jax. He was Chekov’s age, and even though he was young, the Captain trusted him with his life. His marksmanship was excellent, as we all as his survival skills. Time and time again, he had shown bravery and wisdom beyond his years and Kirk had decided that if the young man did well on this mission, that he would promote him to Lieutenant when they returned to the ship. “Need some help with those tents, Jax?”

“Thank you, Sir, but it’s not necessary. You shouldn’t have to do menial tasks like this.”

Kirk smirked and lowered his voice, unrolling the tent. “I’m going to let you in on a little secret, Jax. The Captain’s job is actually quite boring. I sit in that chair all day, giving orders and signing off of files.” He looked up at the treetops and exhaled deeply. “ _This_ is what being a Starship Captain means to me. Exploring new planets, meeting new species…”

“Setting up tents, Sir?”

Kirk chuckled. “You got it. Now c’mon. Let’s get these things set up before Doctor McCoy comes over here and tries to give us vaccines or something. The trick to avoiding him is looking busy.” His eyes twinkled with child-like mischief. He plucked the stakes from their pouch and began threading them through the loops in the bottom of the tent.

 

XxX   XxX   XxX   XxX   XxX  

 

 

Two hours later, camp was set up and the sun was starting to go down. Mak’ai had returned with some native fish and fruits, and was busy preparing them for a small dinner.

After getting a small fire going, the group sat around and ate their meager meal, supplemented with some protein drinks from their rations. They talked about the upcoming mission as they dined.

“I will make my way into town after dark.” Mak’ai wiped her mouth on her sleeve. “I am confident I can get into the city undetected and find N’Jal. I may be gone a day or two, though.”

“Why so long? Can’t you just grab her and come back?” McCoy’s tone was apprehensive. He didn’t like the idea of her being out there alone for any longer than she had to be.

“I appreciate your concern, Doctor. But I assure you that I am more than capable of taking care of myself. To be honest, it may take me a while to locate her. She will more than likely be deep in hiding. Even though I am a trusted compatriot, I will still need to prove my loyalty in this terrible time.”

McCoy scowled and picked at his dinner. “I just hope it’s worth the risk. I don’t like that you won’t let one of our security officers with you.”

Mak’ai smiled warmly. “Your compassion knows no bounds, Doctor. I know you would rather I be accompanied, but the fact of the matter is, the officers would be spotted instantly, jeopardizing everything before we had a chance for the plan to begin. I promise that I will be as careful as I have ever been in my entire life. I don’t want to get captured, I guarantee that.”

“Make sure of it.” He set his plate down. “I don’t want any casualties this time.” He eyed Jim, his brows furrowed.

The crew was silent, the air thick with apprehension. Kirk decided to lighten the mood. “So, anyone know any good ghost stories? We’re around a campfire, aren’t we? Spock, how about it? Do Vulcans even _have_ ghost stories?”

Spock arched an eyebrow. “My people occasionally share tales of our ancestors long since passed on, and oftentimes they entail the spiritual world making contact with those still living.”

“ _Bor-ing_!” Kirk huffed in annoyance. “That’s not what I mean! I’m talking about scary stuff!”

“I do not understand why one would want to intentionally frighten themselves or others with such accounts.”

The Captain tossed another large stick on the fire, sparks immediately popping up from the flames. “Because it’s fun! There’s nothing like trying to terrify one of your friends.”

A gruff voice started in from the other side of the fire. McCoy’s face was illuminated by the flames. “My cousins and I used to try and scare the hell outta each other with spook tales.”

Jim’s eyes lit up. “C’mon, Bones! Let’s hear one!”

“No one wants to hear childish stories, Jim.”

Chekov smiled broadly. “I’d love to hear one, Doctor. Ze scarier, ze better!” The three security officers nodded their approval.

“See Bones? We _do_ want to hear ‘em!” He got up and rounded the fire, seating himself next to McCoy, smile beaming from ear to ear. “Commence with the terror!”

McCoy rolled his eyes. “You’re such a child, you know that?” He shifted around on the ground to get more comfortable. “So, there was this old house down the road from our family property that we swore was haunted…

 

XxX   XxX   XxX   XxX   XxX  

 

The night was silent.

All the native animals had long since quieted in the darkness, the only noise being the rustling of the leaves in the light breeze. Two figures sat next to a small pond, leaning against a large log, enjoying each other’s embrace. They held each other close, a blond head resting on a broad shoulder. Quiet voices filtered through the night air, scented with tropical flowers.

“…I’m just worried about her, that’s all.”

“She’s a big girl, Bones. She can take care of herself.” Kirk cuddled closer to McCoy.

The doctor tightened his arms around Jim. “I know, but I can’t help it. If she doesn’t make it back, it’s on our consciences, you know? We’d be responsible for sending her out there.”

“She’ll be okay. She knows what she’s doing. I trust her completely.”

McCoy sighed. “It’s not that I don’t trust her, I mean, she saved our lives…”

“…and saw me naked…”

McCoy jabbed Jim in the ribs. “I’m serious, Jim. This is heavy shit we’re about to jump into. Ka’al is no joke. We could be killed.”

Kirk wriggled out of the older man’s arms and moved to face him. “I know, Bones. I’m not trying to be funny; it’s just a defense mechanism I guess.” He scooted closer and took McCoy’s face in his hands. “I’m scared, alright?”

McCoy’s eyes softened. “Me too, darlin’.” He lifted his own hands to cover Kirk’s. “I don’t want to see you get hurt again. I don’t know what I’d do.”

Kirk leaned in and kissed Leonard softly, his thumbs rubbing against the Doctor’s cheeks. “Then don’t think about it. It’s not going to happen, okay?”

“You can’t promise that.”

“You’re right, I can’t.” Kirk pressed his forehead against McCoy’s. “But I can promise that I’ll do my best to stay safe. No running out into gunfire this time.”

“I guess that’ll have to be enough, huh kid?”

Kirk smiled in the darkness, the Xentian moon reflecting just enough light off of the pond to illuminate his face. He lowered his hands to his lap and began rolling his shoulders, a pained wince crossing his face. “Care to finish that back massage from earlier? My shoulder is killing me.”

McCoy scowled. “I told you that pack was too heavy. You never listen to me, dammit.” He pushed Kirk to turn around and began to knead the young man’s tense shoulders. “You’re all locked up, Jim. Relax your back, alright?”

Kirk let his chin droop to his chest and grimaced as McCoy’s strong fingers dug into his neck and back. He could feel the ache burning in his muscles. He grunted as the Doctor compressed a knot deep in the flesh, the nerves in his spine reacting to the new pressure.

“You need to be careful with this shoulder, Jim. Too much weight on it can damage the new ligaments I had to implant in it.” He pushed his weight into Kirk’s body, pressing unyieldingly into the tissue surrounding the shoulder blade.

Kirk groaned as McCoy worked his fingers around his back, grateful for the therapy, albeit however painful it was.

After several moments, the Doctor stopped and wrapped his arms and body around Jim’s. He snuggled his face into Kirk’s neck, inhaling the soft scent of his aftershave. “Better, darlin’?”

“Mmmmm-hmmmm.” He leaned back into McCoy’s embrace. “Like I said earlier, Bones. Magic fingers.”

“Don’t spread that around. If word gets out that I give good massages, I’ll never have any time to myself.”

Kirk laughed quietly. “Your secret’s safe with me.”

“It had better be. You can be quite a loudmouth sometimes.” He sighed deeply and pulled Kirk closer. “Tell me everything’s gonna be okay again.”

Jim leaned back into Leonard’s body. “We’re going to be okay…everything will be alright. You’ll see.”

“You know I’ll personally hurt you if things go to shit, right?”

“Aren’t you supposed to do no harm?”

McCoy pinched Jim’s arm through the fabric of his shirt. “Don’t tempt me, kid.”

Jim yawned. “Okay, Bones. If things go south you get one free shot. Just not in the face…I’m too handsome.”

McCoy rolled his eyes in the darkness. They sat quietly for a long moment, until Jim began to shiver slightly in the chill night air.

“We had better get back. It’s late and we have a long day tomorrow.” McCoy released his grip on Kirk and stood, brushing off his pants in the process. He extended a hand to Jim, who took the help getting up.

“How’s about a goodnight kiss?” Kirk’s eyes glistened in the moonlight. “After all, we can’t sleep in the same tent…it wouldn’t set a good example for the rest of the crew.”

“It’s not like they don’t know already, Jim.” He rested his chin on the Captain’s shoulder. “But I see where you’re coming from on a professional level. I guess you can be a straight shooter when you put your mind to it.”

Kirk giggled into McCoy’s chest. “I could totally make a really sick comment about being a ‘straight shooter’ right now, but I’m going to refrain.”

“Thank you for sparing me from your infantile humor.” He leaned in and kissed him passionately, stars twinkling high above in the sky.

 

 


	4. Chapter Four

Shot in the Dark: Chapter Four

**The Next Day**

                “Captain Kirk, I’d like you to meet N’Jal.”  

The Xentian woman firmly shook Kirk’s extended hand. She was shorter and stockier than Mak’ai, but with toned and muscular arms and legs appeared to be able to handle any battle that came her way.N’Jal was dressed in a pair of leather pants and a tight-fitting tank top, with holes down the back to make room for her numerous spines. Her ears were adorned with multiple piercings, with one stud attached to her nose ring with a chain. She gave off a pale green glow in the fading early evening light.

“Mak’ai speaks very highly of you, N’Jal. I hope you’ll be able to help us.”

“Likewise, Captain. I am honored that you would come back to the planet that nearly took your life to help our cause.” She noticed that Kirk’s smile faded at the mention of his last trip to Xentia. “I am sorry, Captain. I did not mean to remind you of that terrible time. I hope you won’t be angry with Mak’ai for sharing your incident with me.”

“I could never be angry with her.” He smiled warmly in Mak’ai’s direction. “No worries about mentioning it, either. Let me introduce you to the rest of the team, then we can get down to business.”

The two Xentian women followed Kirk to join the rest of the group. Finishing their meager dinners, the officers turned to look at the newcomer, the younger ones with smiles on their faces.

Kirk extended his hand and began introducing his crew. “N’Jal, I’d like you to meet my team. This is my First Officer, Mister Spock, Chief Medical Officer Doctor Leonard McCoy,” The Vulcan and the doctor both nodded in greeting. “Our Navigator Ensign Chekov, and Officers Jax, Wilcox and Xin. They’re our security detail.”

“It’s an honor to meet and be working with all of you.” N’Jal bowed deeply. “I want to thank you from the bottom of the collective Xentian heart for your help. Ka’al is a madman, and my people have suffered long enough under him.”

“With all due respect, N’Jal, we are here on Starfleet business. Helping with your plight is our secondary goal.” Spock came to stand in front of them. “If we work together in apprehending Ka’al, our situations will be mutually remedied.”

She smiled. “Agreed, Mister Spock. I can’t thank the Federation enough for being willing to even come back to this place, after what Ka’al did to your Captain. Our people will forever be in your debt.”

Kirk motioned for Mak’ai and N’Jal to sit near the fire. “Why don’t we start getting to know each other better? We’ve got a lot to talk about before we go after Ka’al. I’m anxious to hear any and all information that you think would be useful to our mission.”

N’Jal hesitated to sit. “Captain, before we get down to the logistics, there is something I would like to show you and your team. Mak’ai and I spoke last night about your Lieutenant Fox.” She turned her attention to Mak’ai. “I…our group retrieved his body after the first siege and we gave him a proper burial. I know that our customs are different from yours, but we treated him with the utmost respect.”

“Thank you, N’Jal. That means the world to not only me but my team as well. Lieutenant Fox was a valued member of my crew, and I am grateful that he was treated with dignity.”

She motioned towards the forest. “If you would like to follow me, I can show you the gravesite. It’s not far from here. We wanted to make sure Ka’al and his men never came across it. It’s not outwardly marked, but we vowed to keep it safe.”

“Anyone else coming?” Kirk looked at the group.

No one spoke for a long moment, the younger members of the crew looking nervously at their feet, uncomfortable. Chekov finally broke the silence.

“Keptin, vith all due respect, ve vould vant you to be able to pay your respects in private. Ve can all go some other time.”

“Thank you Mister Chekov.” Kirk turned to Mak’ai and her friend. “Lead the way.”

Before Kirk could move, McCoy inched in closer to him. His voice was hushed and concerned. “You want me to come with?”

Kirk nodded silently and began to follow Mak’ai and N’Jal. The group walked into the forest and through the undergrowth for several minutes. The terrain looked the same to Kirk as they ventured deeper into the trees, but it was obvious that N’Jal knew where she was headed. She walked with purpose, effortlessly slicing though vines and tall plants with a machete. She cleared an impressive path in front of them with little more than a flick of her wrist.

She finally stopped in a nondescript area, not very becoming of a gravesite. The jungle had already filled in and had nearly covered a small plot, marked only by two white stones set askew from one another. To the unknowing eye, it would not be recognizable as a grave. N’Jal extended her hand. “I hope this grave is acceptable, Captain. We did not want to draw any attention to it by marking it any more. We wrapped him in our finest linens and said a few prayers asking the Goddess to help him on his journey to the afterlife.”

“Thank you, N’Jal. I’m humbled that you would risk your lives to grab him and do him this honor. It means the world to me…and I’m sure it will to his family as well.”

The Xentian women both smiled warmly and backed away, giving the two men room to move forward and approach the grave. Kirk knelt in front of the patch of dirt. Tiny blades of new grass had already begun to grow. He reached down and stroked his fingers over the delicate greens. “Damn, Bones. He was only twenty-one years old.”

McCoy stayed standing, his hand gripping Kirk’s shoulder tightly. “I knew his father. He was a cardiothoracic surgeon back in San Francisco.” He sighed audibly. “He was a good officer, Jim. He gave his life to save ours.”

“He should have never had to make that sacrifice.” Kirk hung his head and absentmindedly picked at the grass at his knees. “He’s gone because of my decision not to listen to you and Spock.”

McCoy knelt down beside him. “Don’t you dare blame yourself for his death, darlin’. Fox was a Starfleet officer; he knew the risks of his position.”

“Still,” Jim sighed, reaching out to take Leonard’s hand in his own. “He didn’t have to die here.”

“No, he didn’t. And you didn’t have to come back…but you did. And you know why?” Both men’s eyes met. “Because you’re a good Captain, Jim. And an honorable man. You know when the good fight needs to be fought, and dammit, these people need our help.”

Kirk offered a weak smile. “Even though you didn’t want me to return?”

“Shit, kid. Let’s not even talk about that. We both know how I feel, but we also realize that it’s our duty as Starfleet officers to help the helpless. I may not like it—throwing you into harm’s way again—but it has to be done.” He squeezed Kirk’s hand. “Just don’t get shot this time.”

“I’ll try not to.” Kirk patted the top of Fox’s grave. “You were a good man, Lieutenant. Safe travels.”

The two men rose and stood silently for a long moment, hand-in-hand, looking down at the fresh grave. The wind whipped up, rustling McCoy’s hair. “We’d better get back, Jim. It’s gettin’ dark.”

They backed away from the grave and joined the two women. As they walked back towards camp, Jim took one final look over his shoulder at Fox’s final resting place.

 

XxX   XxX   XxX   XxX   XxX  

The entire group huddled around a tattered map, illuminated by portable lanterns and the flickering flame of the small fire. N’Jal’s clawed finger tapped over one of many tunnels scrawled on the ancient-looking paper.

“The entrance to the tunnel system that we’d like to use is here, about a half-mile away from the city center. It’s been abandoned since my grandparents were children. They were used as service ways when the citadel was remodeled more than one-hundred years ago.”

Kirk scrutinized the map. “And you’re positive no one uses them anymore?”

N’Jal smiled mischievously. “They are very unstable, and because of that fact, they were sealed and forgotten. I was warned as a child not to go near them. Of course, I didn’t listen—and now I am very familiar with the layout. I can assure you that every time I have been in the tunnels, there was never any evidence of others having been there.”

“And you’re sure they go all the way to the capitol building?” Kirk scrubbed his chin with his hand.

“Absolutely. I was…rebellious as a teenager. I spent many a night breaking into the citadel, just because I could. Who would have known that my sneaking around would someday help rid our people of a madman?”

“And what of Ka’al? If the tunnel system leads into his stronghold, surely he has found the exits.” Spock raised an eyebrow.

“That is a risk you have to be willing to take, Mister Spock. These passageways are the only way to get into the building undetected. _If_ he even knows about the tunnels, which we doubt, he will be far too concerned with guarding visible entrances. We have no reason to believe he has discovered the tunnel system.”

“Based on what information? It is illogical to assume that he has not found the access points if you yourself had little trouble entering the premises in your youth.”

N’Jal stood her ground. “There was only one passageway that led into the building proper. It was located in an abandoned cellar that had obviously not been used in decades. I actually had to break a decrepit lock to even get out of the room, and when I did, the dust covering the floor was inches thick. I didn’t go too far into the building for fear of being caught, but I can tell you that the area I was in had been in disuse for ages. I doubt Ka’al or his men have even been near the rooms. There was nothing of value there.”

Spock pursed his lips and turned to Kirk. “Captain, I highly suggest that we find another way into the building. We cannot guarantee that we will not be detected.”

Kirk thought for a moment. “I understand your concern, Spock. But you heard what she said—it’s the only way to get in without being seen. I mean, we’re going to be noticed once we get further into the building anyway, so the more jump we have on them the better.”

“Captain, with all due respect, we need to find a more acceptable solution. Placing the success of our entire mission based on claims that are years old is not wise. The whole operation would be in jeopardy.”

“It’s already in jeopardy, Spock. Look around—we’re hiding in the forest for crying out loud. No one said this was going to be easy.” Kirk looked to McCoy, who stood silently, arms crossed over his chest and a scowl on his face. “This is our only shot. It might take us days to come up with another plan, and that’s time we don’t have.”

The Vulcan squared his shoulders. “I am merely suggesting that we not act hastily. The first option given is not necessarily always the best.”

“Thank you for your input, Mister Spock. I wish we had time to put our heads together more, but we have to move tomorrow. This is our best shot, and I trust N’Jal and Mak’ai fully.” He offered them a sincere smile. “Now, how long do you think it will take us to make it into the building?”

N’Jal leaned over the map and pointed out a small area on the edge of the drawing. “If we enter the system here, walking at a brisk pace, we should be in the tunnels for no more than one hour. Many of the passages are partially blocked by debris and we will have to take extra care when moving through them.”

“What about getting to the area without being detected?” McCoy moved in closer to the group, his shoulder touching Kirk’s as he leaned in to get a better look at the map. “Ka’al’s goons will be crawling all over the city.”

Mak’ai indicated an area on the diagram. “If we leave before dawn, we can sneak in near my home. The area is dense with foliage. If we stick close to the houses and stay in the shadows, we should be able to get to the entrance undetected.”

“That still doesn’t answer my question.” McCoy’s brows furrowed in the low light. “You really think we can hide from them just by sneaking around in the dark?”

“Patrols are light in the mornings.” N’Jal quickly answered. “Ka’al’s men spend the majority of their nights drinking heavily, so they are usually sleeping off the after effects of the long night. They’re horrible soldiers, and we can use that to our advantage. Only his right-hand men are properly trained. The rest are the scum of the streets, lured in by promises of riches and power, but never given suitable direction. It should be easy to slip past them if we move swiftly.”

McCoy huffed. “I don’t like this, Jim. Untrained means they’re unpredictable.”

“We’re in a war zone, Bones. The rules of engagement have long since been dissolved.” Kirk sighed and ran a hand through his short hair. “And besides, untrained also means, well… _untrained._ We might be small in numbers, but we’ve got them beat when it comes to readiness. I mean, think about it—every member of our away team with the exception of our two wonderful friends here has had marksmanship and hand-to-hand combat instruction. We’ve got the upper hand.”

“Yeah, well, what happens when that hand gets cut off by lunatics?” McCoy pursed his lips.

“It won’t. Trust me.” The Captain offered a small smile in McCoy’s direction, hardly visible in the low light. The doctor just snorted and looked down at the map. Kirk continued, “So, let’s move ahead to when he have Ka’al. I’m guessing we’re going to run into some resistance on the way out?”

N’Jal shook her head. “Not necessarily. I have seen Ka’al on the balcony that once belonged to Shaman Luuk-ti. I assume that he has taken up residence in his private quarters. If we get in before dawn, there is a good chance that he will be asleep and the guard detail will be minimal.”

“Even with a light guard presence, we’ll still have to be careful.” Ensign Jax instinctively tightened his grip around the handle of his holstered phaser. “We don’t know how effective—if at all—our new stun capabilities will be. I doubt we’ll get in without some resistance.”

“The Ensign provides yet another reason why I believe we should rethink our strategy, Captain. There are too many unknown factors facing this mission. It would be wise to remain in the forest for several more days in order to formulate a plan with more chance of success.”

Kirk frowned. “We can’t waste any more time. Every day—every _minute_ —that we stay in this forest, more innocent people die. He needs to be dealt with…now.”

“I must object, Captain. As I said before, it would be prudent to consider more options before making a command decision of this magnitude. What of the governmental situation after Ka’al’s removal from power? Who will take over?”

Kirk thought for a moment, then looked to N’Jal. “Any input, ladies?”

N’Jal nodded. “We feel that once Ka’al is removed, his feeble army will fall without him. Most of his soldiers are scared of him anyway—he threatened deserters with death—and they are small-minded. They will follow anyone. We are confident that one of our leaders can take control and begin reunification…we hope.”

Spock arched an eyebrow. “You mean to say that you do not have one-hundred-percent assurance that you will be able to take control of the government once Ka’al is gone? Captain, again, I must object. This is highly illogical and extremely dangerous. The likelihood of our survival, coupled with that of the probability of N’Jal’s group actually being able to hold the seat of government is very small.”

“Your objection is noted, Mister Spock.” Kirk answered curtly and turned his attention to Mak’ai and N’Jal, without acknowledging his first officer any further. “As you were saying, ladies?”

N’Jal and Mak’ai exchanged hesitant glances before continuing. “…well, if it’s still dark, it will be easy to sneak through the halls. Mak’ai worked there, remember? She knows all the shortcuts in the building.”

Mak’ai shifted the maps, pulling out an image of the inside of the citadel. She placed it on top of the tunnel map and pointed with her claw. “This hallway here is where we’ll end up once we make our way out of the basement. If we can make it to this door here,” she tapped the tip of her finger, “then there are a series of back staircases that will lead us to the servant’s quarters. There’s a door that opens directly into Ka’al’s chamber.”

A grumble came from McCoy. “And what if he’s not there? Then we’ve just walked into a hornet’s nest with no bug spray…and the bastards are gonna sting.”

“He’ll be there, Bones.” Kirk’s eyes were hopeful. The doctor scowled and exhaled deeply through his nose, staring daggers at Jim. “We get in there, _quietly_ , get him and high tail it back to the extraction point.

McCoy couldn’t come up with a response, and instead clenched his jaw in silence.

“Spock, how close to the city can we safely use the transporters? I don’t want to have to drag Ka’al too far.”

The First Officer quickly typed in a few numbers on his PADD. “According to my calculations, we will need to be at least fifteen-hundred meters away from the city proper. Any closer and we run the risk of a transporter malfunction as a result of magnetic interference.”

Kirk smiled mischievously. “Well then, I guess we’re going to have to make sure we all eat a good breakfast so we can haul him out quick.” He rocked his neck back and forth. “Anyone else have anything they want to say about tomorrow? Or are we all on the same page?” He looked suspiciously at McCoy, crystal blue eyes meeting hazel ones. The doctor just huffed quietly and looked away.

“Alright then. Let’s all get a good night’s sleep. Set your chronos for oh-three-thirty. We need to be at the tunnel entrance by four. Sun comes up at seven, so we don’t have much time.”

The members of the away team retired to their respective tents. McCoy and Kirk were left alone by the fire. They stood there quietly for a long moment, staring at each other.

_Say something, Bones._

_I know you’re mad._

_…and scared._

The doctor knelt, picked up a large stick and poked the coals in the fire pit. Ash billowed up in a small plume. He didn’t make eye contact with Kirk.

“I guess I should explain myself, huh Bones?”

McCoy snorted. “Why bother?”

Jim went to kneel next to him, but the older man stood abruptly. He swiftly turned on his heels to face the young Captain, eyes seething with anger. “Dammit, Jim! You think this is gonna be a snap…it’s not! This isn’t a game, kid! Nothin’ ever works out that easily!”

“You don’t know that, Bones. The ladies know their stuff, and they don’t want to get hurt any more than we do. They’ll keep us safe.”

McCoy tried to keep his voice down. “Safe? We’re goin’ in to grab a warlord right outta his bed! How the hell do you expect to stay safe draggin’ him out of there with those damn brutes roaming the halls? And they don’t even know if it’s going to work!” He scrubbed his hand over his face. “I like Mak’ai and N’Jal, and I want to help their cause, but now that I’ve heard this ‘plan’, I don’t trust it. We don’t even know how many resistance members they have. Do you really think they’ll be able to take back the leadership of the city?”

“We have to trust them, Bones. If we don’t, he’ll just keep terrorizing the people. And when he gets enough balls, he’ll expand out into the galaxy. We can’t let that happen.”

“There you go, leapin’ without lookin’! This is just like last time all over again.” He lowered his eyes and let out a long breath.

Jim grabbed for the doctor’s hand, but the older man pulled it away. “What do you want me to do? Hide in the forest and let him murder people? Let him just get away with bringing down my shuttlecraft or firing at my ship?” Kirk’s face contorted with anger, as he struggled to keep his voice from rising. He clenched his fists at his side. “I’m not sitting idle while he destroys everything! Every minute we waste is another life lost, and I’m sure as hell not having that on my conscience.”  

McCoy lunged forward and grabbed Jim by the shoulders, his fingers digging into the soft skin of Kirk’s neck. “Listen to me, dammit! I have a bad feeling about this. And before you go tellin’ me that I ‘always have a bad feeling’ just hear me out. I won’t lose you, y’hear me? And I’m afraid that if we go in there tomorrow with this hair-brained plan that’s exactly what’s going to happen.” He sighed and brought his forehead to touch Kirk’s. “This shit’s hittin’ too close to home, Jim. I just put you back together and if we go barging in there tomorrow, I…”

Kirk brought his hands up to caress Leonard’s face. “Shhh, Bones. Just don’t, alright? Don’t think about it. Nothing’s going to happen.”

“You’re doing it again, Jim.” He pulled back and shook his head. “You just don’t get it. Nothing we talked about has sunk in. You’re Jim-Fucking-Kirk…everything _always_ happens to you! I know that you have a duty to Starfleet, I get it. But you also have me to consider— _us._ And I don’t think you’re doing that right now.” McCoy backed away and began moving towards his tent. “I may have to go along with your decisions, but that doesn’t mean I have to agree with them. And I sure as hell have earned the right to tell you when you’re being stupid. Goodnight, _Captain_.”

He walked away, and got in his tent, zipping up the front flap.

_I’m sorry, Bones._

_I just can’t help it._

_I want to do the right thing…I just don’t know what that is._

_I’m torn._

_Come back and talk to me…_

_I don’t want to go to bed angry…_

_I’m scared…_

Jim stood by the fire silently, watching the flames dance in the night.


	5. Chapter Five

Shot in the Dark: Chapter Five

                McCoy stared at the back of Kirk’s head as they trudged through the forest. He watched as Jim would tense and roll his shoulder every few moments, reaching up and rubbing at the muscles that had to be sore from sleeping on the ground. He wanted to help, but he was still so damn pissed from the night before.

He had hardly acknowledged Kirk that morning as they ate their small breakfast. Jim had tried on more than one occasion to inch closer to him or strike up conversation. But McCoy had conveniently found something that needed his attention, whether it was busying himself with Med Kits or checking the charge on his phaser—which he abhorred carrying. He had objected, citing his hatred for weapons, but Xin had insisted. Everyone needed to be armed in case of a firefight.

He grumbled and moaned, and even briefly looked to Jim to save him from having to carry the weapon, but Kirk had just commanded him to carry it anyway, voice stern and professional. Then he had simply walked away.

Now, as Leonard watched Jim from afar, he wondered if anything he had said the previous night had actually sunk into Kirk’s head. He knew he had been angry and had more than likely come across as mean and uncaring, but he needed to make Jim see what he was doing. Six weeks ago he had held Jim’s life in his hands—literally—and had nursed him back to health. In that time, Kirk had promised to try and control his rash tendencies and now here they were, right back in the same boat they had just bailed themselves out of.

He wanted to scream at him. Take him by the shoulders and shake him until he realized that this plan they were going with was insane and doomed to failure. Leonard didn’t know what made Jim think the way he did; maybe it was his shitty childhood, or the private need to always try and get out of his father’s shadow. Whatever it was, it made him impulsive.

And when he got like that, he always ended up unconscious in Sick Bay.

_Except there’s no Sick Bay to go to right now._

_Damn I wish we were back on the ship._

_I wish he’d just listen to me for once in his life._

_…I can’t do this again…_

Mak’ai held up a hand. She crouched down on her haunches, and everyone else followed suit.   She cocked her head to the side, listening intently. After a long moment she turned to Kirk and whispered something in his ear. McCoy couldn’t hear what had been said, but Jim immediately turned to look at the rest of the away team. His eyes lingered on Leonard for a few seconds before motioning with his hand for everyone to move in close.

“We’re almost there.” His voice was just above a whisper. “Mak’ai thinks there is a patrol up ahead, they’re going to check it out. Everyone just stay hidden—and quiet.”

He turned back to the women and signaled them to move on ahead. When they were out of sight, McCoy noticed Jim’s shoulders sink slightly. Jim quickly stole a glance over his shoulder at the doctor, then turned around and stared into the forest.

_He’s nervous._

_Should be, the little shit._

_This plan’s a damn joke._

McCoy’s eyes bored into Jim’s back. It was like he could see through the layers of clothes, and he imagined the fading scar crossing his shoulder. Leonard closed his eyes for a moment, the memory of treating and dressing the hideous wound still fresh in his mind. Jim had flinched under his touch, effectively breaking McCoy’s heart with a simple reaction. He had hated himself in that moment, knowing that he was causing Kirk pain. He knew it had to be done, but the sound of Kirk’s pitiful cries had been almost too much for him to bear. And in the end he had made the horrible decision to betray Jim and drug him out of his mind without consent.

_I can still hear his pained moans._

_…still see those awful stitches._

_…your blue eyes silently begging me to help._

_…your expression—afraid and hurt—as you were pulled under by the unwanted medication…_

He took a cleansing breath, willing himself to rid his mind of the images. McCoy knew he had to have a clear focus. Because Jim would undoubtedly need his help. A chill ran up his spine as a cool pre-dawn breeze whipped through the trees. He instinctively rubbed his biceps with his hands to warm himself. He stared at Kirk again, and could almost feel the heat of Jim’s warm body pressed up against his own by the pond two nights prior. His thoughts wandered to feeling that same heat, only intensified tenfold two weeks ago, the first time they had made love.

They had been slow and gentle, exploring each other for hours like new lovers do. And in the end, lying in each other’s arms basking in their mutual afterglow, the heat had been ever present. A warmth that was unmistakably “Jim Kirk.” Leo was never cold in any bed he shared with Jim, for the younger man radiated heat like a furnace. No matter how chilled the surrounding area was, as long as he was in Jim’s arms, he could stay warm forever.

McCoy’s heart sunk for a brief moment, longing for their current situation—this awful limbo he felt like they were a part of—to disappear.

He wanted Jim back. He wanted to feel the heat again.

He was cold.

_Dammit, why’d you have to go and screw with things between us?_

_You promised me._

_I’m still furious._

_…I’m scared._

The group started moving again, their footsteps rustling through the leaves startling him out of his thoughts. Mak’ai and N’Jal had returned, speaking quietly with Kirk and Spock, gesturing with their weapons into the forest alongside them.

They changed direction abruptly, McCoy figuring they were close to the city. He could see the faint glow of lights on homes in the distance through the jungle growth.

_Not long now._

_Jesus, I hope this goes smoothly._

_He had better not get hurt again._

After walking for a few moments, the group stopped once again, this time Kirk motioning for them all to huddle in. McCoy followed, positioning himself on the outside of the makeshift circle, as far away from Jim as possible.

“The city limits are just over there.” Kirk’s voice was hushed. “There’s a small group of soldiers roaming around. N’Jal sys they’re slow moving. We should be able to avoid them if we time it right.”

“Keep your weapons at the ready, but stowed. Make sure the charge is set to stun.” Spock quickly brought his PADD up, shielding the glowing light with his coat. “The tunnel entrance is seventy-two-point-one meters due north. Stay close to the walls if at all possible to avoid detection.”

Kirk checked the charge on his phaser. “And if we get separated, stay in the shadows until you can be located. Stay put, that’s an order.” He eyed McCoy the longest. “Remember, there are a lot of innocents around. I don’t want phasers discharged unless absolutely necessary.”

The Captain looked at each member of the away team as he spoke. “Anybody have any questions?” No one said a word. “Then let’s go.”

Kirk briefly made eye contact with McCoy once more, a tiny hopeful smile crossing his lips. McCoy just stared back as Jim turned, crouched down and began to follow the women.

The doctor brought up the rear, internally hoping that he wouldn’t have to bring Jim back to the ship in a body bag.

 

XxX   XxX   XxX   XxX   XxX  

 

All hell broke loose almost instantly.

Less than five minutes after gaining entrance to the city, and way farther away from the tunnel door than anyone would have liked, they were spotted. Phaser blasts competed with projectile weapons in a macabre mid-air dance. The away team broke and scrambled for cover in any safe place they could find. In an instant, Kirk found himself completely cut off from the rest of his officers.

“Starfleet is here! Don’t let them escape!”

Kirk ducked behind a barrel of foul-smelling water, wrinkling his nose at the offending odor. Bullets ricocheted off the brickwork next to him, shards of stone exploding all around. He peeked out from his makeshift shield and tried to locate the rest of the team.

Spock had taken refuge in a doorway, while Mak’ai and N’Jal had crossed the small square adjacent to the houses and had tried to come in behind the two soldiers firing at them from cover. Two more warriors found shelter behind a cart in the square and were firing wildly at the away team. Chekov and the three security officers ran into an open storage shed and hid behind crates stacked inside. Every few seconds, one of them would poke their heads out and try to get a stun shot off. Lieutenant Xin was favoring her left leg, which had become stained with blood. She held it gingerly, wincing every time it moved.

_Shit, she probably took a bullet._

_It’s all my fault._

Jim snapped himself out of his thoughts when he realized that there was no sign of McCoy. Suddenly, his chest seemed to collapse inward, threatening to crush his racing heart. He frantically scanned the area for the doctor, pleading with whatever deities happened to be watching that he would find him.

_Please don’t let him be hurt._

_I’ll never forgive myself if he gets hit._

_I can’t live without him…_

Kirk was able to breathe a sigh of relief when he finally spotted McCoy kitty-corner to his own location. He was crouched in a recessed doorway, hands gripping the handle of his Med Kit so tightly his knuckles were white. He hadn’t even touched his phaser. The doctor’s expression was one of sheer terror. Kirk tried to get his attention.

“Bones!” The older man didn’t hear him over the yelling and the ensuing battle. “Bones! Xin’s been hit!” Kirk cupped his hand around his mouth to amplify his voice. He didn’t know if he had been heard or not—the doctor never acknowledged—but McCoy must have spotted her because he stood up and looked as if he were prepared to run. He waved at the officers in the shed, trying to get their attention.

Kirk felt his stomach leap into his chest.

_No! It’s not clear!_

_Don’t go out there!_

_What have I gotten us into?_

_…what have I done?_

Before Jim could scream at him to stay put, McCoy had darted across the street, a bullet narrowly missing his head. It hit the masonry adjacent to Kirk, a puff of dust and rock chips exploding from the impact site. McCoy moved further down the alleyway and within seconds, Jim lost sight of him.

Kirk panicked.

Not thinking rationally, Jim lunged out into the street to find the doctor. He frantically searched every doorway and alcove he could see, desperately trying to locate the doctor. He vaguely heard Spock’s strong voice commanding him to retreat back to his position. But Kirk couldn’t stop himself from moving. In that moment, nothing else—not the mission, not the Xentians, not even his own safety—mattered. His only concern was McCoy.

_Need to find Bones._

_This was a terrible mistake._

_I’m sorry…_

He heard a familiar voice shout over the chaotic sounds of the firefight.

“Xin! Stay where you are and put pressure on that leg! I’m comin’!”

Kirk had just seconds to see McCoy with his back to the soldier with the club. He tried to warn him, but as he was about to open his mouth, a searing pain erupted from his temple and he found himself knocked backwards by the sensation. Warm blood trickled down his cheek as he stumbled backwards and hit his head on the brick wall next to him. As blackness began to creep in on the edges of his vision, he saw the soldier raise the club and swing it effortlessly at McCoy’s head.

The last thing he saw was the bludgeon cracking against the doctor’s skull, McCoy falling like a limp rag doll to the cobblestone street.

Then his world went black.

 

XxX   XxX   XxX   XxX   XxX  

 

_“…-ptin?”_

Kirk struggled to emerge from his own sluggish mind. His entire head hurt, and he felt like had an elephant on his chest. He tried to respond to the phantom voice, but his throat wouldn’t cooperate.

_“Don’t try to move yet.”_

Jim attempted to force his eyes open, only to find that they had a mind of their own and would not oblige him. He felt pressure on his temple, and a warm liquid dribbling down the side of his face. He wanted the sensation to stop—it hurt.

_“Stay still, Sir.”_

_Who the hell is that?_

_‘Doesn’t sound like Bones…_

_Bones!_

“Bon…” Kirk blindly swiped at the hand holding a cloth to his head, only to find that it stayed firmly planted on his face. He tried once more to open his eyes, and was rewarded with minimal success. In a foggy haze, he saw his young Navigator, a worried look in his eyes. “Wh’ are we?”

“A safe house, Keptin. Ve are not in danger…for ze moment.” The Ensign lifted the gauze under his hand and inspected it, scowling at the blood before replacing it on Kirk’s head.

Kirk let his eyes close once again. His head throbbed and he couldn’t focus. He knew he should be worried about something— _someone_ —but he couldn’t bring it to mind. He hated feeling vulnerable like this.

“How’d we…get here?”

“Commander Spock dragged you, Sir. You vere grazed by a bullet and hit your head ven you fell.”

_Shot again?_

_Bones is gonna be pissed._

_…wait…_

_Why isn’t Bones taking care of me?_

“Where’s McCoy?” Kirk’s tone was immediately frantic. He pushed himself up into a sitting position, knocking Chekov back on his rear end. The young officer grabbed the Captain by the shoulders as he swayed backwards, the momentum of his erratic movements muddling his already confused mind. Chekov scooted behind him, and Kirk allowed himself to be rested back on the man’s lap.

“Keptin…please try to stay calm. Your vound is minor, but ve still need to vatch your for signs of concussion.”

Kirk shook his head and tried again to push the cloth on his forehead away. “ ‘M fine. Where the hell is Bones?”

Chekov looked to Spock, uncertainty in his eyes. Kirk could tell by his expression that he was unsure how to answer the question. The First Officer stayed silent for a moment at Kirk scanned the room. Wilcox was tending to Xin’s injured leg, tying a makeshift bandage tightly just below her knee. N’Jal’s top was stained a deep orange, but Kirk couldn’t tell if the blood was hers or not.

_Injuries…_

_…Bones got hit on the head…_

_…he fell…_

_Oh my God, I’ve lost him…_

The Captain attempted to sit up once more, Chekov gently helping him up. Kirk leaned forward, nausea overtaking him as he moved. He curled himself inward and hung his head, willing the feeling of sickness to pass. He took a few deep breaths and tried not to vomit.

“Captain, are you alright? It would be wise to remain seated until we can assess your neurological condition better.”

Kirk turned his head abruptly to face Spock, and in an instant jumped to his feet and lunged towards the Vulcan. The room spun as he tried to catch his bearings. Strong arms grabbed his shoulders just as he was about to spiral back to the floor.

“Captain, you need stay calm.”

Kirk scowled and pushed back from Spock, shrugging the man’s hands away from his body. “Where the hell is Bones?” His voice was insistent.

Spock straightened his top and replied flatly. “He is gone, Captain. The Graz’ Kuul-ai have taken him.”

 

 

 


	6. Chapter Six

Shot in the Dark: Chapter Six

                “What do you mean, ‘he’s gone’?” Kirk held his head in his hands in disbelief. His body swayed as a wave of fear and nausea swept over him. “How could you let them take him?”

Mak’ai gently took his bicep in her hand, leading him to an open chair. “Captain, please sit down. You’re going to pass out if you don’t calm yourself.” He sat at her insistence, then looked at Spock with pleading eyes.

_They have him._

_They’ll kill him…_

“Captain, I believe the Graz’ Kuul-ai are confident they have you. As the soldiers were dragging the doctor away, their leader was heard giving an order to contact Ka’al; that they had ‘Kirk’ in custody.” Spock stood stoically as Kirk listened. “They seemed rather pleased to have a hostage, and were content in leaving the rest of us behind. Ka’al will no doubt be displeased when he learns that not only have his men captured the wrong person, but left potential prisoners in their wake.”

Kirk’s face flushed, his anger threatening to burst out of his chest. He had never wanted to strangle Spock so badly in his entire life. “You just let them kidnap him? Why didn’t you try and rescue him?”

“The number one priority of the away team is keeping you safe. All others are secondary, even the doctor. You were incapacitated at the same time as McCoy, and your safety took precedence. Lieutenants Wilcox and Jax created a small diversion so I could remove you from the active area.”

Jax stood and approached the Captain. His head was hung, his voice hushed. “I’m sorry, Sir. By the time you were safely out of harm’s way, they had dragged Doctor McCoy from the scene. There was nothing we could have done.”

Kirk didn’t even look at the young officer, instead choosing to clench his fists and direct his rage at the Vulcan. “I don’t care about my safety! You let them take him!”

_What if I never see him again?_

_Have to find him._

_Save him._

“I’m going after him.” Kirk’s voice was strong and determined. “Did you see what direction they went?”

“Captain, we are not even sure that the Doctor is still alive. It would be illogical to attempt a rescue.”

Kirk rose from the chair and brought himself almost nose to nose with his First Officer. “Now you listen to me. I’m going after him. Me. No one else. If I have to pull rank on you, I will.”

Spock stood his ground. “Captain, I would like to speak with you privately.”

“Whatever you want to say to me, you can say it right now. Because I’m leaving in a minute.” Kirk suddenly got a sharp pain behind his eyes, causing him to grab his forehead and wince. He brushed Mak’ai’s hands away when she tried to comfort him.

“Perhaps you should sit down.” Kirk glared at his First Officer’s suggestion. “Very well. This is not the agreed on plan.”

Kirk scoffed. “Well, in case you haven’t noticed, the plan has changed. They have Bones!”

“Sir, I believe you are emotionally compromised by the situation. Doctor McCoy’s capture is undoubtedly clouding your ability to think rationally.”

Kirk resisted the almost uncontrollable urge to punch Spock in the face. “I don’t care about rationality, Spock! They took him! And I’m going to get him back.”

“Captain, I cannot allow you to do this. If you will not listen to logical reasoning, than I must assume that you are no longer capable to command this team.”

“Then relieve me. I’m going in to get him, whether you’re with my decision or not.”

Spock raised an eyebrow. “I do not wish to relieve you of command, Sir. It would be beneficial to all involved if you were to not act hastily. You would not want to risk the doctor’s life by prematurely bursting into the citadel without a formulated strategy.”

“They could be getting ready to kill him as we speak, Spock! We can’t waste any more time!”

Mak’ai spoke up. “Captain, I believe that Doctor McCoy is still alive—and will be for some time. Especially because they think he is you. They have an excellent negotiation tool in their hands. Ka’al would never waste an opportunity to parade a Starfleet officer around as a trophy. Even if he figures out McCoy’s true identity, I doubt he’d end his life. A high-ranking officer from the _Enterprise_ is too valuable of a prize to kill.”

“Mak’ai makes a logical point. We need to wait and come up with a plan that has a high success rate.”

Kirk hung his head in defeat. Spock was right—he always was. If he went barging in there like a madman, they would more than likely kill McCoy without hesitating.

_I hate waiting._

_Every minute we sit here on our asses, Bones is in more danger._

_I’ll never forgive myself if something happens to him._

The other officers and the Xentian women sat quietly, watching their Captain. Kirk could feel their eyes boring into him, judging him. He knew he must have looked like a raving lunatic. He wanted to run out the door—Spock and his logic be damned—and rescue McCoy. But he knew Spock was right. If he acted out, he would pay for it dearly.

With McCoy’s life.

Kirk sighed and turned away from Spock and the rest of the team. He wanted to retreat, but there was nowhere to go in the small room. It looked like some sort of storage garage, all the windows having long since been covered with boards. He couldn’t locate a door, and wondered how they had even managed to get into the structure. Jim moved towards the corner, as far away from the others as possible and began to think.

After a few long moments, he emerged, new found energy pulsing through his veins along with his idea.

_This’ll work._

_It has to._

He faced the group. His tone was laced with determination, his plan simple. “I’m going to surrender to Ka’al.”

The group gasped in unison.

“Just hear me out. They want _me,_ not him.” Spock pursed his lips, the rest of the away team listening intently. Kirk pulled a tiny device, no bigger than a quarter, out of his pocket. “Scotty gave me this transponder. It was supposed to be for buffing up the signal from the _Enterprise’s_ transporter. I think we can rig it as a homing beacon. We can hide it somewhere on me and you can track it with a Tricorder.”

“Captain, there is no logic behind surrendering. The only outcome would be that Ka’al and his men would then possess you both. They would have the upper hand.”

Kirk shook his head. “No, see that’s the beauty of it! They wouldn’t know the transponder was on me! I could stall them for a couple days until you guys could bust us out. I know they’ll want to keep us both, and they’ll probably try and get Starfleet secrets out of us. That’ll buy you guys a couple of days to come up with a way to spring us. And we’d probably take Ka’al down while doing it.” Spock tried to speak, but Kirk cut him off. “This’ll work, Spock. Trust me.”

“This is highly illogical, Captain. There is no reason to believe that Ka’al will not kill you instantly, other than Mak’ai’s prediction. We cannot risk your safety on a hunch.”

“It’s our only option. If we do nothing, we run the risk of Bones being killed. And I’m sure as hell not leaving without him. At least if I give myself up, they’ll be happy with their two prisoners. Hell, I’ll even make up phony Federation information to keep them satiated for a few days.”

N’Jal offered her opinion. “Captain Kirk, if I may add something? I think you should wait until the morning to surrender.”

Kirk’s eyes bulged. “Are you crazy? The longer they have him, the more they’ll hurt him. If they get me, I’ll be their target, and they’ll forget about Bones.”

“We are familiar with Ka’al and his tactics, you are not. This first day, Ka’al will more than likely toy with Doctor McCoy. He enjoys keeping his important victims around for a while.” She sighed. “I will not lie to you; Ka’al may beat him violently, but will not gravely injure him. He’s too valuable to kill right away. I can almost certainly guarantee that he will live through the night. The longer we have to plan—and contact more of my resistance members—the greater chance of success we have in a rescue.”

“But you don’t know for sure if they’ll let him live. That’s why I don’t want to wait.”

N’Jal’s expression was compassionate, her voice soft. “You’re just going to have to trust us. We would never want any of you to be in danger, but we are now in dire straits. Sacrifices have to be made, and I feel like the good doctor would be willing to go along with the plan.”

Kirk felt defeated, but he knew she had a point. The more solid their plan was, and the more backup they had, meant a better chance that everyone would get out alive. And Bones would be the first to throw himself in the line of fire in front of Jim. He finally agreed. “Alright. But I leave at first light, whether we’re ready or not.”

Spock clasped his hands behind his back. “If we are to go along with this plan, I want it noted that I was against this course of action from its inception and attempted on more than one occasion to change your mind, as well as provide other alternatives.”

Kirk mustered a small smile. “So you’re agreeing? See? You do trust me.”

“Trust has nothing to do with it. I know you will not heed my warnings, so if my displeasure for your actions is acknowledged in your log—as it will also be in mine—then Admiral Pike will be well aware of the situation we will undoubtedly get ourselves into.”

“Got it, Spock. Now let’s figure out a way to hide this thing on me so I can be ready to go in the morning.” And without looking at Spock again, he turned away and began preparing.

 

XxX   XxX   XxX   XxX   XxX  

 

McCoy’s head hurt.

_“…will…wake up?”_

He was lying on his side, his face pressed up against rough stone. The tang of iron fell on his tongue as he licked his dry lips, wincing as the split in his lip was agitated. He could smell the musty stench of old linens and damp air. Through the thin skin of his eyelids, he could discern that he was someplace dark, possibly a cellar—or a cell.

_“…Ka’al…pleased…Kirk…”_

Washe imagining things? Was Jim here? He tried to force his eyes open, but frowned when he found his eyelashes were caked together. He figured it was blood. Grunting as he rolled his body over, he tried to listen carefully to the muffled voices coming from somewhere close.

_“…sorry excuse for…Captain…”_

_Jim’s here?_

He rolled again, his face pressing up against a moldy stone wall. He pressed himself up against the surface and tried to inch his way into a sitting position. It was slow-going, as his hands were restrained behind his back with some sort of metallic cuffs. McCoy was out of breath by the time he was upright, and his head was pounding. Even without a physical examination, he knew he had to have one hell of a goose-egg on the back of his head. He bit back the bile rising in this throat, nausea threatening every breath he took.

_Shit, I probably have a concussion._

_What the hell did they hit me with?_

_Gotta find Jim._

When he was situated, he was able to take in his surroundings better. The light was low, and he could barely see any further than the rusty bars that separated him from a dimly-lit dungeon. Two of the other walls were stone, and the far one was also bars, and he could see into what looked like another cell. He wriggled his wrists in the manacles, hissing in pain as they rubbed the skin on his arms raw. Movement in the hallway caught his attention, shadows dancing in the flickering light of a few lanterns.

The barred door slid open and a lumbering Xentian shuffled into the cell, his chainmail jingling as he walked. He wordlessly moved on McCoy, grabbing him under the arms and hoisting him roughly onto his feet. The doctor’s head spun as the warrior pushed him back against the wall, the back of his skull cracking against the masonry. In one swift motion, the soldier effortlessly swung him sideways like a child’s doll and plopped him into a metal chair.

The two men stared each other down until finally the warrior moved behind McCoy. His presence unnerved the doctor, not knowing what the man was going to do next. A sinister voice emanated from the darkness. “Ka’al will be here shortly. It would be in your best interest to cooperate with me so he won’t have to beat you senseless.”

McCoy snorted, not scared of the threat. The warrior immediately grabbed him by the hair and snapped his head backwards, a blade swiftly placed at his neck. “Do not play games. If you want to live to see the next day, you will not make a fool of anyone here.” He let go of McCoy’s hair, the doctor’s chin falling back to his chest.

The man circled the chair once again, coming to a stop in front. He tapped his foot. “So, Captain Kirk…just what are you doing back here? Didn’t you learn your lesson last time you set foot on our planet?”

_What?_

“I’m…not Kirk.”

The soldier wasted no time, swinging his fist and landing a swift jab across McCoy’s cheek. “You’re lying!”

_Okay, now I’m pissed._

_No one calls me a liar._

“Do I look like Jim Kirk to you?”

The man eyed him suspiciously. “You are not helping your cause, Captain.” He cracked his knuckles.

“Look, dammit. I don’t know what the hell is going on, but…” McCoy began to chuckle. “…Oh my God, you thought I was him! Ain’t that a kick in the ass?” His laughter became louder, echoing off the walls of the cell. The soldier’s eyes narrowed, his thin lips snarling. “Whoo, boy! Are you gonna get it when Ka’al finds out you have the wrong man!”

_Jim’s safe._

_They don’t have him._

_Yet…_

The Xentian’s eyes bulged with a mixture of terror and fury as he silently pummeled the restrained doctor.

 

XxX   XxX   XxX   XxX   XxX  

 

Ka’al was bigger than Leonard had remembered him being. Maybe it was because one of his eyes was swollen shut and his depth perception was off, but the tyrant loomed larger than he had recalled.

The leader didn’t acknowledge him right away when he entered the cell. Instead, he silently approached the captor who had been working McCoy over for the last several minutes. The soldier backed up slightly and swallowed hard as his master closed the gap between them. As his back came in contact with the wall, a look of terror swept over his face as he realized he had nowhere else to go.

Ka’al had him trapped.

The young man had no time to prepare as Ka’al’s hands shot out, his thumb claws plunging into the soldier’s eyes. He screamed in anguish as Ka’al drove his nails deep into the eye sockets and twisted, pausing a moment before withdrawing his fingers, the veins and nerves attached to now sightless eyes snapping as they were yanked from the man’s skull. Still very much alive, the apprentice shrieked in pain as bright orange blood poured from the hollows, cascading down his face and staining his ragged clothes. Ka’al shook his hands vigorously, flicking the organs from his claws. They hit the floor with sickening splats. Never taking his eyes off his victim, he leaned in and whispered into the man’s ear.

“Only now do you realize that you should have been more careful.”

And in an instant, Ka’al’s hand was around the warrior’s throat, squeezing until the man no longer thrashed in his grip. Ka’al let go of the limp body, which fell to the floor in a heap, and straightened his coat before turning to face McCoy.

The doctor just stared at him, eyes wide.

_Goddamn, I hope he doesn’t pluck mine out like that._

Ka’al approached the chair that McCoy was chained to, stepping on one of the deceased soldier’s discarded eyes as he moved. It was crushed under the warmonger’s boot, the gelatinous innards oozing out from underneath as he walked. When he was just inches from the doctor, he leaned in close, his stinking breath threatening to overpower McCoy’s concussion-riddled senses. Ka’al swiped one of his bloody thumbs across Leonard’s swollen cheek, smearing the coagulating blood on his skin.

“Doctor Leonard H. McCoy…where is your Captain?”

McCoy spit in his face and instantly regretted it when Ka’al’s massive fist connected with his sternum. He gasped as the air was forced out of his lungs, unable to draw another breath right away. A barking cough ripped through him as he was finally able to take in air a moment later. Ka’al just stood there.

“H…how do you…know my name?”

“Starfleet records are public, and your face is all over them. Along with that of your very famous Captain.” Ka’al struck him again, this time with a slap across the face. “I’m going to ask once more, where is James T. Kirk?” The tyrant pressed a claw into the soft flesh of McCoy’s forearm, drawing blood.

McCoy drew in a hissing breath at the sensation. “You think it’s my job to watch him every damn moment? That duty belongs to that green-blooded hobgoblin.”

“The Vulcan.” Ka’al released Leonard’s arm.

“Him and his pointy ears. Creeps me out sometimes.”

Ka’al narrowed his eyes. He grabbed McCoy by the shoulders and shook him forcefully, causing his head to whip back and forth loosely. After several seconds, he let go and bashed his own forehead directly into that of the doctor. McCoy saw stars. “This is your last chance, Doctor. Tell me where Kirk is and maybe I’ll let you live long enough to see him once more.”

Not knowing where his new-found bravado was coming from, McCoy couldn’t believe it when he actually decided to lie to Ka’al. “What makes you think he’s even here? We came down here to get samples of your medicinal herbs.”

_Medicinal herbs?_

_Real smooth, Len._

_He’s never gonna buy it._

“We wandered into the city and were attacked.”

Ka’al actually laughed. “Do you take me for a fool, McCoy? I know you were here six weeks ago, and I _know_ that your Captain was gravely injured. I also know that he is very much alive now, thanks again to Starfleet and their need to put him in the limelight every chance they get.” He grabbed McCoy by the collar and lifted him slightly off the chair, the unyielding cuffs cutting into his wrists as their chains strained against the seat. “You are the CMO on the starship _Enterprise,_ which is lurking behind Ne’nal right now.”

McCoy’s eyes widened.

_They found the ship._

“That’s right. We know of your ship’s presence. I may be a warrior, but I’m not stupid. Do you think just because you disguised your signals, that we still wouldn’t be able to track them? Contrary to popular belief, I’m not anti-learning. I kept quite a few scientists alive to better my cause. They found your ship right away.” He released Leonard’s collar, dropping him roughly back to the chair. “Lying to me isn’t going to get you anywhere. He’s here…I know it.”

Once again, McCoy’s inner snark reared its ugly head. He knew better than to sass Ka’al at this point, after all he was bleeding and bruised already. But he couldn’t help it. He had to try and protect the ship.

Keep Jim safe.

“Well then, if you know about our ship, you know that Kirk’s back on it by now…and he’s gonna make sure that this place is obliterated from the air.”

Ka’al bellowed out a tremendous laugh. “Oh Doctor, you amuse me. Kirk would never leave one of his own behind. Especially his head of Medicine.” He swung his mighty fist, connecting with McCoy’s abdomen in a sickening thud.

The pressure was too great and Leonard couldn’t stop the eruption of vomit from exiting his mouth. At least he leaned forward as it was coming up, missing his clothing and hitting the floor instead. His stomach throbbed from the impact.

_Jesus, I don’t know how Jim gets the shit kicked out of him on a regular basis._

_This sucks._

Ka’al exhaled deeply. “I can see that you won’t tell me where Kirk is…right now. So, we’ll switch topics.   What do you know about Starfleet’s defenses?” He kicked McCoy in the shin with his heavy, bloodstained boots. “Shield codes for your ship, perhaps?”

Leonard grimaced as shooting pain rocketed up his leg. “I’m a doctor, not a shield engineer! I don’t know jack shit about anything like that!”

Ka’al had had enough. “I can see that you’re going to be a difficult one to crack, Doctor.” He leaned in and whispered into McCoy’s ear. “But I look forward to making you talk. I’ll find your Captain…and I’ll make him pay for _your_ lack of cooperation.”

He backed away and motioned for another soldier to approach. McCoy could see the glint of metal in his hand as the warrior came at him with a hypodermic needle. He felt the pinch in his neck and a moment later his eyesight left him as he slipped into oblivion.

 

XxX   XxX   XxX   XxX   XxX  

 

“Tear this city apart!”

Ka’al stormed into his office chamber, knocking an ancient vase off its pedestal as he flew by.

“Find the rest of McCoy’s crewmates! I know Kirk is with them.”

He dropped himself into his oversized chair and turned it so he could stare out the window. He gazed at the city streets below, squinting in the midday sun so he could see better.

_I know you’re out there, Kirk._

_You can’t hide forever._

_And you won’t…because I have one of your officers._

_You’re a man of honor, or so Starfleet claims._

_You won’t leave him to rot in my custody._

A young female paladin burst into the office. Ka’al turned the chair around and glared at her.

“Master Ka’al! We have received word that Starfleet may be working with a small resistance faction.”

Ka’al clasped his hands together in his lap. He resisted the urge to lash out and send his fist through the small mirror on his desk.

“Resistance? Leave it to the Federation to side with the weaklings.” He growled with growing ire. “Send out our best men! Find everyone who has ever had any contact with those Starfleet scum or resistance and round them up! Make examples of them!”

He stood and banged his fist on the desktop.

“Burn this city to the ground if you have to! Find Kirk!”

 

XxX   XxX   XxX   XxX   XxX  

 

McCoy could see the full moon high in the night sky through the tiny barred window in his cell. It glowed in the blackness of space, its almost blinding light blocking out any hope of seeing stars. Still, he thought if he squinted hard enough, he could pick out the _Enterprise._

He was shivering.

Whatever they had injected into his system had certainly done a number on him. He figured since it was nighttime he had been out for at least eight hours. He had come to on the floor, his face crusted with blood and dust. His restraints had been removed and his jacket had been taken, leaving him wearing only a thin short sleeved shirt and trousers.

Once he had managed to sit up without searing white-hot pain coursing through his body, he found the window and stared out of it. He couldn’t be sure, but he would have guessed he had been sitting there for at least an hour.

His head was throbbing, blood still seeping from a gash on his chin. He wished he had the proper equipment to heal himself—or even diagnose his ails—but he knew they would never give his Med Kit back. Leonard could see it sitting on a small table just outside his cell, along with his phaser.

_What I wouldn’t give for that damn thing right about now._

He pressed on his left cheekbone, wincing as the pressure caused a wave of pain to wash over his entire face.

_Goddamn, that hurts like a bitch._

_Great. Broken cheekbone._

It hurt when he took a deep breath, causing him to self-diagnose himself with bruised or possibly broken ribs. He remembered the awful feeling as Ka’al’s fist impacted with his chest. He actually thought it would stop his heart for a split second. The mixture of his prior concussion and the drugs they had pumped into his system had left him with one hell of a headache, and foggy vision that was just now starting to clear.

But, all in all, he was satisfied that even though his injuries hurt terribly, nothing was going to cause him to expire any time soon. He pushed his back flat against the wall behind him, grimacing as his ribs protested to the pressure. He brought his knees as close to his body as he could to try and save warmth.

_So cold._

_Wish I had Jim to warm me up._

He began to think about Kirk and the rest of the away team. No doubt they would be formulating a plan—scratch that, Jim would be concocting some wild scheme—to find him. McCoy could just see Spock raising his damn eyebrows and standing quietly while Jim went on and on about how they would find him.

_Dammit, Jim._

_Just get the hell off the planet._

_Ka’al’s gonna kill me anyway…_

_…and I don’t want you to see that._

McCoy rested his split chin on his knee, the thick, oozing blood sticking to the fabric of his pants. He peered up at the moon and hoped that Jim would get back to the ship safely. His eyes started to close—he was exhausted—and his last thoughts before drifting into a thankfully dreamless sleep were of Kirk.

_Love you, darlin’…_


	7. Chapter Seven

Shot in the Dark: Chapter Seven

                Jim checked the heel of his boot one more time.

“Captain, I assure you, the transponder is secure within your heel. The more you disturb it, the greater the likelihood that it will dislodge.”

Kirk scowled at Spock. “I know, I just…nevermind.”

“Sir, are you sure you vant to do zis? Zere must be anozer vay ve can rescue ze doctor.” Chekov looked at his Captain with concern.

“I have to go, Ensign. I got us into this mess, and I need to take responsibility.”

_I got us into this…_

_…got Bones captured._

_My team is stranded, surrounded by marauding goons._

Chekov lowered his eyes and nodded sadly. “Ve vill be vorking around ze clock to come up vith a plan to get you both out…and take Ka’al down at ze same time.” The young man’s expression was stern, his voice fierce.

“Thanks, Chekov. I know you won’t let me or Doctor McCoy down.” He offered a small smile and handed the young man his communicator and phaser. “Take good care of these for me, alright?”

Chekov accepted the items and nodded sadly before walking away. Kirk knew he was scared for him. He promised himself he would make it back in one piece—with McCoy on his arm.

“Captain, I implore you once more to reconsider. If given enough time, we can formulate a plan that has a better chance of succeeding, and does not involve your surrender.”

Kirk sighed as he turned to Spock. “We’ve been over this. I can’t just leave him there…I won’t. Just stick to the plan and we’ll be back on the ship by the end of the week.”

“Therein lies the problem, Sir. There is no formulated plan.”

“Well then, you guys had better get started. Bones and I can only last so long before Ka’al gets bored with us.” He waited for Spock to object.

The Vulcan stood expressionless. “Then I shall say, ‘good luck’, Captain. We will be monitoring your signal.”

Kirk looked at his team once more, offering a small hopeful smile, and crawled out the secret hatch.

 

XxX   XxX   XxX   XxX   XxX  

 

Kirk walked at a brisk pace, determination in his steps. His boots clomped down on the cobblestones of the street, his footsteps echoing off of the buildings. It was the only sound to be heard, for as soon as he appeared at the end of the street, everyone stopped what they were doing and watched in silence.

He could feel their eyes on him. A mixture of fear, confusion and sadness. As he walked down the middle of the main street of the city, native Xentians, obviously not Ka’al’s cronies because they weren’t jumping on him, peered at him from underneath their hoods and out of windows. Most of them glowed either orange or blue.

_They feel sorry for me._

_And they’re afraid._

Some shook their heads in disbelief, others gasped, and some looked at him with pleading eyes, as if to beg him to change his mind and turn around.

A little part of him wanted to do just that.

But he knew what needed to be done. Bones was in danger, and it was his fault.

_Only I can fix this._

_It’s only a matter of time before Ka’al’s men spot me._

The citadel loomed ahead, banners flapping in the cool morning breeze. Kirk could see armed warriors patrolling the ramparts high above the streets. As he moved closer to the building, one of the soldiers screamed something in their native language and pointed down in his direction.

The Captain immediately raised his hands in the air and kept walking. He focused his attention on the guards that came running out of the fortress almost instantly. They barreled towards him, guns drawn. Just before they reached him, Kirk dropped to his knees, arms still held high above his head.

His submissive move obviously went unnoticed, for one of the guards instantaneously drove the butt end of his rifle into Kirk’s abdomen. Jim lurched forward, all the air in his lungs forced out by the soldier’s strength. His hands fell as he braced his weight on the street. He coughed powerfully and tried not to fall face first onto the road from the hit. The pain in his stomach was incredible. The area that had been surgically repaired twice erupted in searing pain, as it took the brunt of the blow.

_Jesus, it’s like they knew right where to hit me…_

Jim felt scaly hands grab his arms, yanking them behind his back with such force that he flew backwards, almost tumbling ass-over-teakettle onto the road behind him. Cuffs were around his wrists seconds later—way too tight—and he was dragged to his feet.

His vision was still swimming from the hit he had taken in the gut, and it took him a few moments to right himself. The soldiers were speaking in their native language, but from the tone of their collective voices, Kirk could tell they were excited to have him. They laughed heartily as they surrounded him. One finally grabbed Jim by the scruff of the neck and forced his line of sight towards him.

“You…are…Kirk?” The reptile struggled with Standard, but slowly made himself understood. “Ka’al will be…” He scowled momentarily at his lack of words. “…happy…to…have you.” He slapped Jim on the cheek and spit in his face.

Kirk said nothing and allowed himself to be dragged towards the citadel.

 

XxX   XxX   XxX   XxX   XxX  

 

The soldiers pushed him to his knees just before the grand door of the fortress. Kirk grunted as his kneecaps cracked against the cobblestones. Residents had cautiously followed them down the street and now gathered around the town square. Parents held their children close as the doors opened, producing a smirking Ka’al.

He stopped before Kirk, looming over the kneeling, shackled man. Jim never raised his head to look at him. Ka’al bent down and grabbed Jim’s chin, wrenching his face upwards to the sky. He squinted in the sunlight.

_Goddamn, he’s way uglier up close._

“James T. Kirk, we finally get to meet.” He leaned in close, their noses almost touching. “I’m looking forward to getting to know you better. Do you have anything to say to me?”

Jim gritted his teeth.

_Am I really going to do this?_

_He might kill me right here._

_Can’t run away anyhow._

_Do it, Jim…for Bones._

“I surrender.”

Ka’al stood straight once again, releasing his grip on Jim’s face. He spread his arms wide and addressed the crowd that had gathered.

“Look! Starfleet kneels before me in submission!” He kicked Kirk in the stomach, causing the Captain to hunch over with a groan. “Is this what you thought your savior would look like? Weak? Surrendering like a coward?”

Ka’al lunged forward and grabbed Kirk by the throat, lifting him off the ground. Jim struggled, his dangling feet trying to kick at the warmonger. Claws pierced into the soft flesh of his neck, warm blood dribbling down to stain his collar. The feeling of Ka’al’s fingers constricting his windpipe was terrifying as his vision began to blur from lack of oxygen. He desperately tried to bring his hands up to swat at Ka’al’s fists, only to find that they were still cuffed behind his back. The metal of the shackles dug into his wrists.

“You thought Starfleet would save you? That the Federation would be worth joining?” Ka’al squeezed harder, causing Kirk to gasp audibly for what little air was actually making it to his lungs. He continued to address the crowd. “The Shaman was a fool! We as a people would have gained nothing from joining their pitiful organization! Their officers can’t even put up a fight!”

Kirk’s eyes began to roll back in his head, lips turning blue. He fought to keep his eyes from closing.

_Don’t go out…_

_Gotta…stay…conscious…_

Ka’al snarled as he let Kirk go, dropping him unceremoniously to the ground. Jim crashed down onto the street, coughing and gasping as he lay on his side. Ka’al gave him a swift kick in the stomach, and Kirk curled into the fetal position with a groan. Within seconds, Ka’al’s boot was underneath his chin, pushing his head over so Kirk could look him in the eyes.

“Stand up, Captain Kirk. If you’re not going to say anything to defend your honor, at least _try_ to show my people you’re not a total weakling.”

_Just wait…_

_You’re going to wish you had never taken a shot at my ship._

Jim closed his eyes and took a deep breath, his bruised ribs protesting. He tried to press his shoulder into the street stones to give himself some leverage. Slowly, he pushed himself onto his knees, his head spinning as his equilibrium attempted to right itself. He willed himself not to fall back to the street. Jim grunted as he lifted his weary body into a standing position. He swayed, unbalanced.

Ka’al immediately grabbed him by the bicep and began to drag Jim, feet scraping along the stonework of the street as he tried to keep up with the tyrant’s speed. He stumbled as his boots caught on a raised brick and he fell to the ground. With his hands restrained behind his back, Kirk was unable to brace himself upon impact and tumbled forward, scraping his cheek as he fell.

“Get up, worthless animal!” Ka’al grabbed him by the jacket collar and hoisted him to his feet. He pushed him forward, towards a raised platform in the town square. As they got closer, Kirk could see that the podium was stained orange with Xentian blood.

_Oh shit._

_Is he going to execute me?_

_Bones…_

He was relieved not to see any red splatters. In his mind, that meant McCoy was safe. He wouldn’t let himself think otherwise. Now he just had to keep himself alive long enough to rescue the doctor.

Ka’al pushed Jim up the few rickety steps to the top of the platform. The crowd filled in around it, huddling close to see what would happen. The dictator moved in front of him and head-butted Kirk with incredible force, knocking him down. Jim fell to this knees once again, blood pouring from his nose. Before he could react—or even attempt to get up—Ka’al kneed him in the sternum, forcing him to fall backwards. His head hit the wooden platform with a thud.

Kirk’s lungs burned as he tried to take in air, his chest tightening with each choppy breath. Blood from his nose dripped into his mouth and ran down his throat, threatening to choke him as he gasped. He didn’t know if he could take another blow to the chest like that.

“You will all bear witness to history today! The day Starfleet bled at my feet! And begged for mercy!”

Ka’al straddled Kirk’s prone body and bent down, his face inches from Jim’s. He whispered into his ear. “Beg. Beg like an animal. Plead with me not to end your miserable life right here and now.”

Kirk finally spoke, taunting Ka’al. “And rob you of all the fun you might have torturing me? No way.” Jim smiled mischievously, exposing blood-stained teeth. “You know you want to keep me alive a little longer. I might have Starfleet secrets for you.”

Ka’al fumed. Stepping to the side, he dug one hand’s claws into Jim’s shoulders, piercing the skin, the others into his thigh. The warrior then lifted him above his head in one fluid motion. Jim could see the crowd below him, gasping collectively as he was slammed to the deck.

Agony cascaded over his entire body as he struggled to catch his breath. He hadn’t had the wind knocked out of him in a long time. Jim tried to roll on his side, his spine protesting with searing pain as he moved. It didn’t matter; however, as Ka’al kicked him in the abdomen before he could move out of the way. Blood spattered Kirk’s lips as he coughed.

“This man dares defy me!” He dragged Jim to his feet and began mercilessly punching him in the face, blood splattering the worn floorboards of the platform. “No one challenges the mighty Ka’al! Beg for mercy, Kirk!”

_You’ll have to kill me first._

_But not before I get Bones out of here…safely._

The last thing Jim saw as he lost consciousness was Ka’al’s fist.

 

XxX   XxX   XxX   XxX   XxX  

 

“Mister Spock, they have taken your Captain. He has been beaten severely.” N’Jal replaced the barricade on the trap door leading into the safe house. She had made herself part of the crowd that morning, blending in in order to keep an eye on Kirk.

The Vulcan eyed N’Jal silently. Chekov approached the pair, voicing his concern. “Commander, ve must help ze Keptin. Zey vill kill him.”

“The Captain was very firm in his orders, Ensign. We are to remain behind and monitor the signal from the transponder…” He looked down at his PADD. “…which is functioning normally.”

“But zey have beaten him!” He furrowed his brows as his voice began to rise in volume. “Vat if zey have done ze same to ze doctor?”

Spock would not relent. “Captain Kirk was well aware of the risks. Our orders are to formulate a plan to rescue both he and Doctor McCoy when we have enough resistance members to do so. My calculations indicate that we will be ready within three days.”

“And vat if zey decide to kill zem both?” Chekov’s face was beginning to turn red.

“Ensign, I realize that you are worried for the Captain and Doctor McCoy. Therefore I suggest that instead of making a scene, you channel your energy into devising a strategy for their rescue. You cannot help them by being hysterical.”

The young man sighed and nodded in agreement. “You are right, Sir. My apologies, I vas out of line.”

“There is no need for regrets, Mister Chekov. This is a difficult time for all involved, and we all handle duress differently.”

“Thank you, Sir. I vill not let you or ze Captain down.” He backed away and immediately grabbed Wilcox by the bicep and pulled him away to start planning.

Spock watched the signal from Kirk’s boot blip on the screen of his PADD for a moment longer before joining the group.

 

XxX   XxX   XxX   XxX   XxX  

 

Kirk awoke bound to a chair, his legs restrained with heavy chains. Cuffs held each of his wrists to the arms of the seat. The air was dank, the light low. He could hear water dripping somewhere off in the distance. His vision was foggy as he awoke from his daze, and he strained to figure out just where he was. Everything hurt. His right eye was swollen shut, his stomach ached. He was pretty sure he had broken ribs, as it hurt to breathe deeply.

_Well, I’m alive…_

_I’m in prison._

_Is Bones here?_

_Please, God, let him be alright._

_Can’t ask about him just yet…_

Heavy footsteps approached and Jim’s eyesight cleared just in time to see a red glow move in the hallway as the heavy barred door slid open. Ka’al strode through, cracking his knuckles in his fingerless gloves. He stopped in front of the chair, tapping his foot.

“I must admit, you’re not at all what I expected, Captain. You surrender, yet taunt me moments later?” He let out a long, hissing breath. “I dare say you’re quite brave…or stupid.”

Kirk smirked, licking the dried blood from his lips. “I guess you’ll just have to find out, won’t you?”

“My, you’re feisty. I can already tell I’m going to have fun beating Federation information out of you.” Ka’al lunged at him and landed a right hook on his chin. “Seeming as that I already know your ship is behind our moon, why don’t we start with a little something different?”

_He found the Enterprise._

Kirk steeled his expression, not willing to let on that he was nervous they had found the ship. Instead, his defense mechanism kicked in—which meant picking a fight.

“Something different? Alright, why don’t you tell me why you stink so bad?” Kirk wrinkled his nose in disgust. Ka’al snickered and slapped him.

“You will learn quite quickly that I am not a man to trifle with.”

“Man? You look more like a giant lizard to me. An ugly one, too.”

Ka’al snorted. “It’s a shame your Starfleet Academy didn’t teach you how to properly address foreign heads of state, Kirk.” He slammed his fist into Jim’s chin again, almost knocking him backwards in the chair. “Although I admit, I’m going to enjoy making you beg me to stop for your disrespectful behavior.”

“Head of state?” Kirk spit blood onto the floor. “You’re a joke.”

Ka’al bent over and pulled a small blade out of his boot. He slowly approached the restrained Captain, twirling the knife in his hand. Kirk’s shirt was unbuttoned slightly, revealing the upper portion of his chest. Ka’al pointed the blade tip down, his thumb stroking over the leather handle. With his free hand, he pushed the fabric of Jim’s shirt away and held the blade directly over his heart.

“If one of my men talked to me like that,” he snarled and pressed the tip into Jim’s skin. “I would slit his throat and watch him bleed to death at my feet.”

Kirk stared at him with determination. “Do it. Stab me in the heart.” Jim gritted his teeth, both from pain and defiance. “See where that’ll get you then. Your days are already numbered; killing me will just speed up your eventual demise.”

Ka’al drew the blade slowly down Jim’s chest, etching a line in his skin. It was just deep enough to draw a significant amount of blood, but avoided slicing a wound that would need to be stitched closed. Kirk hissed as the blade made its way down his pectoral muscle. The tyrant stopped just above his last rib and tapped the knife on the fading scar. He smirked and retracted the blade.

“As much as my brain is screaming at me to kill you here and now, I must remind myself that you are far too valuable to me. You _will_ talk, James Kirk.” He leaned in, long reptilian tongue poking out of his mouth and flicking Jim on the cheek. The closeness of Ka’al’s crimson bio-luminescence hurt Kirk’s eyes. “You may end up screaming what I want to hear, but you’ll cooperate eventually. And I look forward to seeing just how much pain you can endure. Like your friend, McCoy.”

“What did you do to him?” Kirk snarled, his voice low and threatening.

“Now it seems that I have your attention. You need to rethink your strategy, Mister Kirk. Being uncooperative may prove worse for your friend than for you.”

Kirk narrowed his eyes. “Let him go. You have me, and that’s what you wanted all along.”

“And have him miss all the fun of watching you die in captivity?” Ka’al bellowed out a mighty laugh. “Or perhaps the tables can be turned and seeing him perish slowly, _in anguish_ , will prompt you to play along with me. No, Captain, I think I shall keep him.”

“He’s not even a member of my bridge crew. He doesn’t know anything about the Federation except its medical knowledge. He can’t tell you anything.”

_That’s totally a lie._

_He’s a Lieutenant Commander, for crying out loud._

_He could pilot the ship in an emergency._

_He has part of the self-destruct code._

“Lying won’t get you anywhere, Kirk. He’s a senior member of your crew, and I know you’d trust him with your life. Surely that has to mean something. Is he a dear friend?” He wiped the bloody blade on his sleeve before replacing it in his boot. “Would it bother you to know he resisted, just as you have? Or would you rather hear how my minions beat him until he was on the verge on unconsciousness? Before I had a turn, of course.”

Kirk clenched his fists. He could feel his face flush with anger.

_If you hurt him, I’ll kill you._

_…I’ll never forgive myself…_

_He had better be okay._

“He was very talkative as I was fracturing his cheekbone, and punching him so hard in the abdomen that he vomited.” Ka’al licked his thin lips and hissed. “Did you know that he bleeds quite profusely? His blood smells just like yours, Kirk. _Rancid_.”

Jim’s lower lip quivered with rage. He began to breathe heavily through his nose, his voice low and deep. “You listen to me, you bastard. Every time you hurt him, every punch…every kick, you bring yourself one step closer to me ending your miserable life.”

“It seems that you care for your CMO deeply, Kirk. Are you worried about him?”

“Where is he?” Kirk yelled, momentary anger bubbling over into his voice. He struggled against the restraints, the cuffs cutting into his wrists. “I promise to repay you in kind tenfold for any harm you caused him.”

_Calm down._

_Getting angry isn’t going to get you or Bones anywhere._

_Don’t fuck this up._

Ka’al’s tone was mocking. “You can threaten me all you want, but it won’t help either of you.”

Kirk took a deep breath and smirked, wincing as his split lip opened more with the movement of his lips. “It may not help us, but you screwing around with me is giving the people time to get their act together. There’s plenty of resistance groups, and the people of Xentia are going to come after you. Just wait. It’s just a matter of time before they revolt.”

Ka’al squared his shoulders and puffed out his chest. “Then my soldiers will crush them just as they will crush any Federation troops that should try to rescue you.”

“Sending your soldiers to do your dirty work? If you’re so confident that the resistance will fall, why don’t you take care of them yourself?” Kirk could taste the tang of iron as he licked his lower lip. “You’re nothing but a coward, Ka’al.”

The warlord’s eyes bulged with rage. Without a word, Ka’al grabbed Kirk by the collar and began punching him in the side of the head. Over and over, until Jim could feel blood beginning to drip from his left ear. Ka’al grunted as he landed each blow, his red glow turning darker as he hit harder.

_He’s pissed._

_Probably doesn’t like me calling him names…_

After a long moment, Ka’al ceased his deluge, releasing Kirk’s collar. Jim slumped in the chair, his ears ringing. His head throbbed and he was quite surprised he hadn’t lost consciousness. Both men breathed heavily as they recovered from the adrenaline.

“You will regret calling me a coward, Kirk.” Ka’al hissed sinisterly. “I will see to it personally that you suffer greater than any man has ever suffered before. We are long past me wanting to know Starfleet secrets—which I will still get from you, rest assured. Now this is about watching your writhe in agony as you realize the error of your choices.”

He motioned for a guard to grab Kirk. The soldier unlocked the cuffs and foot chains and dragged Jim to his feet. “Throw him in the cell next to the doctor. I’m compassionate enough to let them see each other once more before the real fun begins.”


	8. Chapter Eight

Shot in the Dark: Chapter Eight

                Leonard McCoy could swear he had just heard Jim’s voice.

There was a commotion far down in the hallway. The large metal door at the end swung open, scraping over the stone floor. Three shadowed figures enveloped in a red glow appeared in the doorway. He couldn’t make it out clearly—his eyesight was fogged from the dim light and lingering concussion—but he could tell that the person in the middle was slumped over. And being manhandled.

_“…watch it! You don’t have to push me, I’m goin’!...”_

There it was again. Unmistakably Kirk. McCoy let out a sigh of relief that was immediately followed by bubbling fear. If Jim was here, that meant he had been captured. Was the rest of the team apprehended as well? Was Kirk hurt?

_At least he’s talking._

_Means he’s not dead._

The commotion got louder as the people approached. The dark hallway wasn’t giving up its secrets as McCoy squinted in the low light. He was desperate to see Jim. The door to the cell next to him slid open and the guards shoved someone in.

_“I said, quit pushing me!”_

The prisoner stumbled and fell to their knees with a thud and a pained grunt. He let out a breathy groan as he clutched at his side. The guards laughed.

“Your friend in the next cell is a good punching bag, Captain. He bleeds nicely.”

The cell slammed shut and the two sentinels walked away down the dark hallway, amused. Kirk slowly sat up, cradling his right arm over his abdomen. He turned his attention towards the adjacent cell. McCoy could hardly see him in the flickering torchlight, but he noticed right away that the young Captain’s face was bloodied, his eye swollen shut. He had a scabbed-over wound on his left temple. It reminded the doctor of a bullet graze.

_He better have not taken another bullet._

McCoy slowly made his way to the bars connecting the two cells, emerging from the shadows. He knew he must look horrible. He could feel the crusted blood under his nose, knew the cut on his chin needed stitches, and was pretty sure he had a black eye. The doctor grabbed the bars separating them so tightly his knuckles turned white.

“Jim!”

_Jesus, he looks terrible._

_That nose is jacked up._

_His eyelids are droopy._

_Looks like it hurts him to breathe._

_Where’s all that blood coming from?_

Kirk immediately sighed in relief and scrambled towards McCoy. He rested his own hands over the doctor’s, squeezing tightly.

“Bones, my God I thought they killed you. When I saw that guy crack you over the head…”

McCoy wrenched his hands out from under Kirk’s and reached up to cup Jim’s face through the bars. “Shhh, darlin’. I’m fine.” He closed his eyes for a moment, relishing in the heat from Jim’s flushed cheeks under his fingers.

_Missed you so much._

_Thank God you’re alright._

“Now, you mind tellin’ me what the hell you were thinking gettin’ yourself caught?”

Kirk pulled away and sat backwards on his feet. He grimaced as his body protested to the movement. “Actually, I surrendered.”

“Surrendered? Are you out of your goddamn mind?”

Kirk smirked. “Obviously.”

“Dammit, you should have gone back to the ship.” McCoy shook his head. “You’re such an idiot for comin’ back to get me.”

“I had to, Bones. It’s my fault you’re in here.” He exhaled deeply, his breath stuttering as the pain from his ribs overtook him. Jim pulled his arm tight across his belly, protecting his aching ribs. He looked around the cell bay, making sure the guards were gone before lowering his voice to a whisper. “The others are going to spring us, you’ll see. We’ll be back on the ship by the end of the week.”

McCoy rolled his eyes. “Another one of your hair-brained operations? You’re doing it again, Jim.”

_I don’t even have the energy to put up a fight about his idiotic behavior right now._

_Shit, his chest is bleeding._

_Heal now, fight later._

“You’ve got a nasty gash on your chest, Jim. Lemme see.” McCoy reached through the bars and brushed Kirk’s open shirt aside, revealing the slice down his pectoral muscle. “You okay?”

“I’m fine, Bones.” Kirk winced as the fabric brushed across the wound.

“Like hell you’re fine.” McCoy leaned in and squinted in the low light, trying to see the cut better. It was oozing steadily, although the blood flow seemed to be slowing down. Jim’s chest was stained dark red where the crimson liquid had begun to dry. The doctor scowled and tore a strip from the bottom of his own shirt. Folding it into a fat square, he handed it though the bars.

“It’s really bleeding, kid. Press this onto the cut and keep the pressure steady until the blood slows.”

Jim did as he was told, groaning at the new pressure.   “Thanks.” His body language was showing signs of distress, as his shoulders slumped and he screwed his eyes together in pain. The doctor immediately began to worry.

“Any other pain you want to tell me about? Did they hit you in the stomach? What about the head?” McCoy raised an eyebrow. “Be honest.”

Kirk sighed and moved forward, turning and pressing his back against the rusty bars, facing away from McCoy. He grunted as his body protested to the new position.

“The soldiers kicked me right in the surgical site. My back…really hurts. Ka’al slammed me on the ground and I got the wind knocked outta me. Hit m’head, too.” Jim’s voice was soft and tired. McCoy realized that his words were beginning to slur slightly. “An’ I think my nose is broken.”

_Hit his head?_

_Shit, he’s probably got a concussion too._

_Worried about internal damage._

_Goddammit, why can’t we be back on the ship?_

_Can’t treat him in this shithole prison._

“Jesus, Jim! You’d think you were wearin’ a shirt that said “Hurt Kirk!” on it! Didn’t you even try and fight back?”

Kirk snorted in the darkness. “Can’t fight back when m’hands are tied behind my back. Or to a chair. Doesn’t mean I didn’t want to, though…I mean, they _had you.”_ His voice trailed off with a long exhale.

“Jim?” He poked the young Captain’s shoulder, and Kirk turned his head awkwardly to try and look in his direction. McCoy noticed his eyes were beginning to droop more. He needed to keep him awake. “Jim, don’t fall asleep.”

“I’m really tired all of a sudden, Bones. Can’t I just rest my eyes for a minute?”

“No way, dammit. You’ve more than likely got a concussion from that damn bastard crackin’ your skull against the street.” He reached through the bars and slapped Kirk’s cheek lightly. “You need to stay awake, for a while, alright? You nauseous?”

Kirk nodded lethargically and let his eyes flutter shut. “A little.”

“Open those baby blues, kid. I’ll try and get you something to drink.” McCoy stood and approached the door of his cell. He peered down the torch-lit hallway, and could see the guard sitting at the far end. He shook the barred door. “Hey! We need some water down here or we’ll get dehydrated!”

The guard looked up briefly from his small book and shook his head. He hissed something in his native language before resuming his reading.

McCoy contemplated making a scene, because Jim really needed something to drink as he waited his concussion out. And Leo wasn’t exactly in a great position himself. But he also didn’t want the brute to get pissed and take it out on one or both of them. He decided to ask again at the shift change. McCoy shuffled back to the wall of bars and slid down into a sitting position. His back was up against Kirk’s.

“Guess they’re not into keeping us comfortable. Let me know if you’re gonna puke, okay?”

Jim just moaned a response.

_When the hell is Spock gonna get us the hell out of here?_

_Hang on, darlin’._

_Gotta keep him awake._

_Dammit, Jim._

“Well, what do you want to talk about?”

 

XxX   XxX   XxX   XxX   XxX  

 

Ka’al stormed into the heavily guarded, crowded barracks. The occupants immediately cowered. Ka’al just laughed.

“Look at you! Scared and weak! You’re all lucky I kept you alive for your intelligence and skill sets, otherwise you would have been executed by now!”

The group of scientists, doctors and teachers silently watched as he began to walk through the room. He stopped in front of a young researcher. “You. Pick two others to go with you and start researching. I want any information you have on James Kirk and what makes him tick. I want to know his weaknesses, his fears, anything that would make him fall before me. Dig deep, those Starfleet good-for-nothings are bound to keep unsavory information about their poster child hidden away.”

The frightened young man quickly chose two of his colleagues and followed Ka’al down the hallway to a small room that had been set up with several computers. They were all familiar with this room, as the warmonger had sent them there on many occasions to research various information for him. Within minutes, they were all seated, bringing up various databases and catalogs.

It took several hours, but at last Ka’al was rewarded.

A thick printout was placed on his desk, at least fifty pages in length. The title was printed in bold lettering.

** The Kelvin Incident: Final Hours of NCC-0514 **

Ka’al stared at the name under the title.

Christopher Pike.

He remembered that name from looking at Starfleet records. He was the officer who convinced Jim Kirk to join up. A smirk crossed his thin reptilian lips. He hoped this paper would prove useful. If not, he had no qualms about killing the person who believed it would help. He had many others waiting to take his place. The scientist stood quietly before the desk, wringing his hands together.

“The _Kelvin?_ And why should the destruction of a Federation vessel have anything to do with Kirk?”

The young researcher licked his lips and spoke quietly. “Master Ka’al, Kirk’s father was First Officer on that ill-fated starship. He stayed behind and maintained stability until all others could escape. That sacrifice resulted in his death.”

“And? So he was a hero.”

The scientist moved closer to the desk. “Sir, James Kirk was born prematurely on a shuttlecraft while escaping from the _Kelvin._ He never knew his father. In further research, I was able to glean that he always felt at odds living in the shadow of the _‘Kelvin_ Hero.’ Perhaps you could use that to your advantage?”

Ka’al sat quietly for a moment, deep in thought. He tapped his claws on the dissertation. After a long moment, he stood and smiled broadly.

“You have earned the right to live another day.” He turned around and looked out the massive window. “Was it you alone who found the information?”

“Yes, Master.”

Ka’al nodded. “Very well. Guards, bring this young man back to the barracks. Take the other two outside and execute them.”

The man tried to protest as he was led away by Ka’al’s goons. “Master…please! They worked equally as hard!”

Ka’al never turned around. “You would be wise to accept their fates, lest you feel like joining them.” He inhaled deeply and stared out at two young children playing in the street below him. “Bring me Tazan. I believe I have a need for one of his devices.”

 

XxX   XxX   XxX   XxX   XxX  

 

“You wanted to see me, Master Ka’al?”

The warrior looked up from the papers on his desk. Before him stood an older Xentian, facial scales beginning to turn an ashy gray with age. Many of the spines on his head and back had fallen out years ago, as he approached old age. He glowed a pale orange.

“No need to be afraid, Doctor Tazan. Please, sit.” Ka’al extended his hand towards a chair in front of him. “Are you comfortable here in the citadel?”

“Yes, Sir. Thank you for your generosity in my accommodations.”

Ka’al smiled broadly. “You were the Shaman’s top scientist, Doctor. I knew there was a reason that I kept you alive and didn’t destroy your work.” He leaned back in his chair, his leather armor creaking as his body stretched. “I’m sure you’re eager to know why I’ve summoned you.”

“I’ve been told that you have two Starfleet Officers in custody. I assume it has something to do with them?”

“You’re very perceptive. I seem to remember that you had perfected a mind-digging device during your tenure with Luuk-ti.”

The older man nodded. “That was some time in the past, Master Ka’al. I wanted to see if I could tap into memories and use them to aid in recovery from trauma.”

Ka’al smirked. “Do you think it could be used in the opposite manner? To torture? Inflict mental suffering? Insanity, perhaps?”

The scientist’s eyes widened in disbelief. “I don’t understand. You wish to purposely dredge up unwanted memories?” He sighed deeply as his expression saddened. “You want to use it on the officers, don’t you?”

“Do you think it can be done? And let me remind you that your feelings in the matter do not count. I want a simple yes or no answer.”

He looked down at his hands, clasped in his lap. His voice was quiet. “Yes, Sir. I think I can change the settings to generate the results you desire. But…”

“Excellent! Prepare your device for use by tomorrow morning!”

“But, Master,” the researcher pleaded with Ka’al. “This machine was meant to be used on Xentians. I can’t guarantee that it wouldn’t do incredible harm to a human—even cause death.”

Ka’al dismissed him with a flick of his hand. “I’m willing to take that risk. Just think Tazan, your invention will be known throughout time and history as the thing that finally brought James Kirk to his knees.” A sinister smile took his expression. “And Starfleet will follow.”

 

XxX   XxX   XxX   XxX   XxX  

 

“Sir, incoming hail from the surface. It’s…Ka’al.”

Hikaru Sulu remained at the Helm console. Even though he had been left in charge while the Captain and First Officer were away, he still felt unsure about taking Kirk’s chair. Therefore, he decided he could still do his best job from his own place on the bridge.

“Ka’al? How did he know we were here?” Panic began to wash over the Lieutenant. He wished Kirk was there.

“Unknown. Should we answer it?”

“Put it onscreen.” Sulu moved to stand behind the Captain’s chair.

Ka’al’s face appeared seconds later. His thin tongue flicked across his lips. “I see your Captain’s chair is empty. Wherever could he be?”

“I am Hikaru Sulu of the starship _Enterprise._ What…”

Ka’al held up a hand. “Don’t speak, little one. I wish to inform you that we have not only your Doctor McCoy in custody, but also Captain Kirk. You will transmit a message of ransom to your Starfleet brass informing them that I have some demands. If those requests are met, I may allow them to live. If not, you can consider them dead.”

“As acting Captain of this vessel, I order you to return our officers at once. You are in direct violation of Starfleet Regulation ninety-four A. Holding officers against their will can and will result in disciplinary action.”

Ka’al laughed on the screen. “You think I care about your regulations? How soon you forget that Xentia is not a member of your pitiful little organization. I have no intention of following any of your rules, Mister Sulu. Now, be a good boy and do what I ask of you. My demands will follow shortly.”

Before Sulu could respond, the screen flicked off, leaving only the stars in the distance. He turned and looked at Uhura.

“So do we contact Admiral Pike? He may be willing to send in reinforcements now that Ka’al has hostages.”

Uhura shook her head. “Captain Kirk was very clear in his orders to keep radio silence.”

“Yeah, but that was before the Xentians found the _Enterprise.”_

Sulu sighed deeply. He never signed up for any of this when he decided to be a Helmsman. He just wanted to pilot a starship, exploring the unknown. And yet, here he was—acting Captain of the Federation’s flagship, trying to decide whether or not to bow to the whims of a madman in order to save his Captain.

“We can’t contact Commander Spock, that’s for sure. We don’t even know if he’s also been captured. If he hasn’t, hailing him might allow Ka’al and his men to pinpoint his location.”

“I think if Ka’al had more officers, he would have definitely bragged about it.” Uhura seemed somewhat relieved. “My gut tells me he only has the Captain and Doctor McCoy.”

Sulu nodded in agreement. “So, let’s assume that Ka’al only has the two of them. Spock and the others must know they’ve been captured. I would think they’d be trying to mount a rescue.”

“But we don’t know that for sure. They could be trying to decide the same thing we are.” Uhura tapped a couple of places on her console. “I can’t get any hard lock on the communicators or Tricorders sent down with the away team. They could be deep in hiding.”

“It may be necessary to extract them without the Captain and Doctor.” He tapped a button on Kirk’s chair. “Scotty?”

An accent-laden voice answered. “Aye, Mister Sulu?”

“There’s been a…situation planet side. Do you think you could boost the transporter signal sufficiently enough for an emergency beam-out?”

“Ach! I cannae guarantee that the signal will hold, Sir. There’s an awful lot of interference coming from those buildings. They might come back as porridge.”

Sulu sighed deeply. That was not what he wanted to hear. “Alright, work on a solution, Mister Scott. I’m going to want an update in two hours.”

“Sure thing, laddie. Is the Captain alright?”

“Not for much longer, Scotty. Sulu out.” He ended the comm and looked around at the bridge crew. He knew they were all counting on him to handle the situation at hand. He licked his lips and took a deep breath.

“Lieutenant, hail Commander Spock. We need to work together to ensure we don’t hinder any sort of rescue attempt they may be starting.”

Uhura’s eyes were pleading. “Sir…are you sure that’s the best course of action?”

“We have to take the risk. Ka’al could kill the Captain and doctor at any moment. Hail him.”

_I hope I’m doing the right thing._

_This better not blow up in my face._

XxX   XxX   XxX   XxX   XxX  

 

The entire group stared at Spock’s pocket in disbelief.

A muffled chirping emanated from inside, the faint light of the activated communicator barely visible through the dark fabric.

The Vulcan quickly retrieved it and flipped it open. “Spock here. You were told to maintain radio silence.”

_“I understand, Sir. But we’ve received a message from Ka’al.”_

“What did he say?”

Sulu’s voice was laden with uncertainty. _“He informed us that he has the Captain and Doctor McCoy and wishes to talk ransom with Starfleet. We didn’t want to inform Admiral Pike without authorization.”_

Spock contemplated his answer carefully. “Mister Sulu, you may have put the team at risk by contacting us. Ka’al will no doubt be able to track our signal. That being said, do not inform Admiral Pike of the situation. Captain Kirk was very clear that he did not want Starfleet being contacted until Ka’al was in custody.”

_“I’m sorry, Sir. We thought it would be best to contact you, even though we ran the risk of outing your location.”_

“There is no need for apologies, Lieutenant. The situation cannot be changed. Now we must move forward. We are in the early stages of planning a rescue. The Captain was confident we could formulate a plan to release them both when he surrendered. We…”

_“He surrendered? Why?”_

“There is no time to explain, Mister Sulu. We feel that along with the assistance of resistance members, we will be able to attempt a rescue in as little as two days. In the meantime, I want to remind you to keep radio silence. We will contact you when we are in need of extraction.”

_“Is there anything we can do from up here?”_

“Negative, Lieutenant. Keep monitoring hailing frequencies for any signs of communications from the surface, be it friend or foe. Log and do not respond to any more hails from Ka’al. If you do not hear from either myself or the Captain in four days’ time, you have a direct order to contact the Admiral and apprise him of the situation.”

_“Aye, Sir. Good luck.”_

“Thank you, Mister Sulu. As the Captain would say, ‘We will need it.’ Spock out.”

He closed the communicator and dropped it on the ground. He crushed it under his boot. “This safe house has been compromised by the hail from the _Enterprise._ We must find an alternate place to hide.”

N’Jal began to grab what little supplies they had. “I know of another place, not far from here. We’ll have to go out in the light, though.”

“It is a hazard we must accept. Mission parameters have changed and the need for a hasty extract of the Captain and Doctor is top priority.”

“Agreed, Mister Spock.” Mak’ai took a knapsack from N’Jal. “I will round up as many resistance members as I can and meet you at headquarters when it is dark.”

“Ve are not going to your headquarters now?” Chekov looked anxious.

“We are too far away to attempt going there in daylight.” N’Jal helped Xin to her feet. “Another safe house is very close and we can hide there until nightfall. Then we can make our way to our stronghold. It is underground, away from prying eyes.”

“Very well. We will make our way to the next safe place and wait until dark.” Spock grabbed his PADD and phaser, stowing the weapon in its holster. “Lead the way, N’Jal.”

He stepped on the remains of the communicator one last time, twisting his boot in the shattered casing and electronics.

 

XxX   XxX   XxX   XxX   XxX  

 

“…so when you take into account the mating habits of Tribbles, you can assume that the buggers are going to sprout up like goddamn weeds and be makin’ baby Tribbles all over the place.”

The doctor and Captain had been talking for a good hour. Well, strike that—McCoy had been talking for a good hour, with Jim grunting a response every now and then, or grumbling when Leo prodded him in order to keep his eyes open. McCoy felt Jim was making good progress, his words weren’t slurring so much anymore and his nausea had abated. He still needed to keep him awake for a few more hours, to make sure the damage wasn’t permanent.

“Bones…no more Tribble talk…please.”

McCoy chuckled in the dim light. He and Kirk had moved to the backs of their little cells, so they could rest against the cool, damp walls. They had linked hands through the rusty bars, McCoy rubbing his thumb over Jim’s knuckles, trying to soothe away the pain he knew the kid must have been in.

Jim had shown concern for him as well, reaching through into his own space, trying to wipe away the crusted blood under his nose with a piece of his shirt.

They were both in a world of hurt.

“Okay, no more Tribbles. How about Gorn?”

Kirk shook his head. “Can’t I go to sleep?”

“Nope. Not until dark. I need to make sure you’ll wake up if I let ‘ya.” He turned his head to face Jim. “Wanna tell me about the wound on your head? It’s older than these new ones…it has a scab.”

“I…took a bullet.” The young Captain eyed McCoy, waiting for him to yell.

“Shot again? You’re damn lucky your brain didn’t go spillin’ all over the pavement.” He sighed. “When are you going to learn, kid?”

Kirk snorted. “Never. It ricocheted off the wall and grazed me. Chekov said it wasn’t too bad. I fell backwards and knocked myself out. Spock dragged me away. I…saw you get clubbed as everything went black.”

“Hurt like a bitch, lemme tell ya.”

“I’m sorry I couldn’t help you. I tried to warn you, but I got hit.”

McCoy squeezed Jim’s hand. “Wouldn’t have made any difference. We were up shit creek without a paddle the minute that battle started.”

The two stayed silent for a long moment before Jim spoke again.

“You still mad at me?”

“Yes.” Another compression on Jim’s hand. “But I’m sorry that I yelled at you, okay? You just pissed me off so bad yesterday.”

Jim rested his head back against the wall, eyes closed. “You didn’t kiss me goodnight, you know.” He turned towards McCoy, a sad expression on his face. “First time you didn’t do that.”

“Don’t go poutin’ on me now. You didn’t deserve a kiss that night. You were being a pain in the ass.”

Kirk looked down at their intertwined fingers. “I’m sorry, Bones. For everything.”

“I know, kid.” He sat forward and turned his body to face Jim, bringing his face close to the barrier between them. “C’mere.”

Kirk eased himself up and met McCoy. The doctor reached for him and pulled him into a long kiss through the bars.

They sat like that for several moments; their kiss lingering like it was to be their last. They had no idea that the guard had seen them, or that he was quickly making his way to Ka’al with information he knew the warrior could use to his advantage.


	9. Chapter Nine

Shot in the Dark: Chapter Nine

 

                Jim watched in horror as the guards grabbed McCoy and threw him against the side wall of his cell. The doctor let out a pained gasp as his body hit the stones. He hunched over, hands planted firmly on his thighs, as he tried to catch his breath. Kirk scrambled towards the bars and gripped them tightly.

“Leave him alone!”

A warrior kicked the bars swiftly, just missing Kirk’s fingers by millimeters. Jim recoiled back for a moment before returning to his original position. He clenched his hands at his sides.

McCoy grunted as the other guard kneed him, taking advantage of his stooped position and the fact that he wasn’t paying attention. Before he could stand up straight again, the soldier had him by the hair, wrenching his head backwards, thumping his skull against the bricks.

Jim’s attention was turned from McCoy when he heard heavy footsteps approaching. He recognized the sound of the jangling armor. As Ka’al stepped into Leonard’s cell, Kirk’s heart dropped. He felt all the color drain from his face and he held his breath.

Ka’al turned to Kirk for a brief moment, a smirk crossing his thin lips. “I’ve been made privy to some very interesting information, gentlemen. I think it will help me get what I want from you both.”

The warmonger lunged at McCoy, landing a swift punch to the man’s jaw. Leonard doubled over, blood dripping from his mouth almost instantly. Ka’al wasted no time, barely pausing before he slammed his fist into McCoy’s stomach twice before grabbing him by the shoulders and kneeing him in the groin. Leonard collapsed to the ground with a breathy groan. He lay on his side, clutching his abdomen, his legs pulled up tightly to his body.

“Stop!” Jim gripped the bars again, not caring if the guard broke his fingers for doing so.

“Oh, I don’t think so, Captain.” Ka’al kicked McCoy in the chest, nothing more than a pained yelp coming from the doctor. He didn’t even try and fight back. “You see, the guard saw something very interesting earlier. It appears you’ve been keeping a very important part of your relationship from me, Mister Kirk.”

He leaned down close to McCoy’s face, grabbing it with his long clawed fingers. McCoy’s eyes rolled around in his head as he tried to focus. “…A relationship that I fully intend to exploit.” Ka’al spit in the doctor’s face. He then turned to Kirk, sneering. As he approached, Jim removed his hands from the bars but did not retreat.

Ka’al stood just inches from Kirk. His breath was hot and putrid as it wafted through the air. “You are very much in love with your CMO, are you not?”

Jim eyed him suspiciously. “What makes you think that?”

“A kiss shared through prison bars is very romantic—and pathetic. Wouldn’t you agree?” Ka’al motioned to one of his warriors with a flick of his wrist, and the man kicked McCoy in the ribs. Jim jumped at the motion, cringing as he saw blood trickle from Leonard’s lips, along with a sharp, pained exhale. For a brief instant, the doctor looked up, and met Kirk’s eyes. They were laced with apprehension and anguish. Leonard screwed them shut again as the guard kicked the back of his head.

Ka’al flicked his tongue at the bars, the forked end barely wisping against Jim’s cheek. “Look at him, Captain. He’s in pain. Don’t you wish you could just take it away? Save him from my iron fist?”

“Don’t touch another hair on his head or I’ll…”

Ka’al’s hand shot through the bars and wrapped around Jim’s throat. “Or you’ll what? Hit me? Kill me?” He squeezed slightly. “You’re in no position to threaten anyone.”

He released Kirk, who stumbled back and massaged his throat. “You wanted me, Ka’al. I told you before, he doesn’t know anything. There’s no reason to hurt him.”

“Oh, but there is! You see, I know that you care for him deeply. If you will not give me what I want, I’ll make sure that you regret ever crossing me. Your lover will suffer knowing that it was your fault.” Ka’al moved back from the bars as the guards lifted McCoy to his feet. In a flurry, Ka’al began landing punches left and right to his torso, the doctor crying out in agony as each blow hit its mark. The tyrant grabbed McCoy by the sides of the face and rammed his head against the wall. The doctor tried to free his arms from the clutches of the men holding him, but their strength was too great—and his waning by the second.

“Stop it! He’s of no use to you!”

Ka’al smirked and let go of McCoy’s head. “No, not today, Captain Kirk. This is far too enjoyable.” He slammed his fist into the doctor’s throat. McCoy gasped for air, as he tried to get away from the soldiers holding him.

“You’re a coward, Ka’al!” Jim pressed his face against the bars as he yelled. “Beating a defenseless man who knows nothing when you could be getting all sorts of information from me!”

The warrior immediately stopped his barrage on McCoy and lunged for Kirk through the bars. He grabbed the Captain by the shoulders and raised him high in the air, Jim’s feet kicking the metal bars as he struggled. Ka’al’s face contorted with anger.

“You dare call me a coward?” He yanked his arms forward, and Kirk crashed into the bars, his face slamming against them. “Have you forgotten what happened last time you questioned my honor?”

McCoy groaned behind Ka’al. Jim’s eyes rested on Leonard, fragile and bloodied. He couldn’t let Ka’al hurt him anymore. Even if it meant sacrificing himself.

“You don’t have any _honor_!” Blood trickled from Jim’s nose and into his mouth. He spit it through the bars into Ka’al’s face. “Your government is a joke! You stole Xentia from the people, and it’s just a matter of time before they take it back.”

Ka’al abruptly let Kirk go, sending him crashing to the floor. He motioned for the guards to leave McCoy’s cell and walked away from Jim. Kirk watched as they entered his own compartment, seeing McCoy pull himself to his knees and closer to the bars out of the corner of his eye.

“You wish to toy with me, Captain? Fine. I can play your little game.” Ka’al grabbed Jim by the arm and yanked him up. Dragging him from his cell with his own hands, he pulled Kirk down the dark hallway.

Jim heard Leonard call for him weakly as he was led away.

 

XxX   XxX   XxX   XxX   XxX   XxX  

 

“But Master Ka’al…the device isn’t calibrated yet!” Tazan pleaded with Ka’al, clutching the electrode-studded band to his chest. “It still isn’t ready to be used on humans! You said you were going to use it tomorrow. I need more time!”

Ka’al grabbed it from his arms, yanking the poor man to the ground. “It will have to do. Our guest thinks he can threaten me, so I’m prepared to show him the error of his ways.”

“Sir, please give me twelve more hours, at least. If you use this on him now, it could kill him. His human brain is much more fragile than that of a Xentian’s.”

Ka’al came to within inches of the doctor, towering over him. He peered down into his frightened eyes. “Ready this device… _now._ Captain Kirk is being restrained and will ready in a moment’s time. Don’t cross me, little man.”

“…Y-yes, Master.”

The tyrant tossed the equipment on the table and shook his finger at the scientist. “Five minutes. If you aren’t ready, I’ll kill you where you stand.”

 

 

XxX   XxX   XxX   XxX   XxX   XxX  

 

 

Kirk strained against the bindings around his wrists. He had been tied to an uncomfortable metal chair in what looked to be the same room he had originally been in when he first arrived. A heavy leather strap had been secured around his chest, which was bare. It rubbed painfully against the healing wound on his pectoral muscle. His shirt and jacket had been thrown carelessly into a pile against the wall.

_This can’t be good._

He watched as Ka’al and a small, nervous-looking ancient Xentian walked into the room. The other man was holding something in hands. They were followed by two of Ka’al’s guards, rolling a machine on a cart.

Kirk swallowed hard and tried to hide his anxiety.

“Captain Kirk, allow me to introduce you to Doctor Tazan. He was once one of the leaders of the medical research guild. An extremely talented scientist, I assure you.”

The older man bowed his head, trying not to look Kirk in the eyes. His hands shook, the device rattling. It almost tumbled from his grip. From what Jim could see of the item in the gnarled old hands of the doctor, it seemed to be a thick headband made of an opaque flexible plastic. He could see objects embedded into the material, each one connected to a small black wire emanating from the surface. The wires each had small extensions on the ends, that looked like electrical leads.

“Nice to meet you, Doctor. How did you get mixed up with this worthless ingrate?” One of the guards next to Kirk slapped him in the back of the head. Kirk just smirked.

“My dear Captain, I’m disappointed in you. Surely you would have learned by now that insulting me is only going to bring you pain.” Ka’al pushed Tazan from behind. “Hook it up.”

Tazan gingerly approached the machinery that had been wheeled next to Kirk and began to connect the wiring. He then attached two small flexible pads to Jim’s exposed chest and ran the leads back to the machine. Ka’al cracked his knuckles and moved to stand directly in front of the Captain.

“This is what’s going to happen, James. Doctor Tazan has a most intriguing invention. It can dig into your mind. Pull out what you fear most…and use it against you. He tells me it may be quite painful.”

“If you think I’m going to beg you to stop…”

“Oh, I wouldn’t dream of it! And even if you did, I wouldn’t. We’ve known each other long enough now for you to realize that I’m just not that kind of man.” Ka’al knelt at Jim’s feet. “No, Captain, I am very much looking forward to seeing what Tazan’s machine will do to you. It’s never been used on a human before.”

Tazan approached with the device. “It’s…ready, Master.”

“Well, what are you waiting for? Put it on him!”

The elderly doctor gingerly approached Jim. Kirk bent his head forward willingly, so Tazan could slip the band over his head. The older man hesitantly looked into Kirk’s eyes, compassion and sadness flecking throughout, as he tightened the strap. The doctor’s pale orange glow illuminated the area around them.

_He’s afraid…_

“Give him the drug.”

Kirk’s eyes followed Tazan as he moved to the cart for a moment and retrieved a syringe. He approached Jim with apprehension. His voice was a timid whisper. “Master, I am unfamiliar with the human circulatory system. I am unsure where to administer the relaxant. And…I am not even confident it will affect him.”

Ka’al struck the man in the back of the head, the force causing the needle to fall to the floor with a clatter. “Stop wasting time! You seem to have a soft spot for our guest, Doctor. Let me remind you that he is my prisoner, not your savior. You could be next in that chair if you’re not careful.” He turned to Jim as Tazan bent to retrieve the syringe. “It would be wise of you to suggest a suitable injection site for Tazan. Otherwise I’ll jam it into your eye.”

“The large vein in my neck.” Kirk tipped his head to the side, exposing his jugular. He winced as Tazan slid the needle into his skin with trembling hands. The medication burned as it entered his body. Within seconds, his arms felt heavy and his eyelids drooped slightly.

“Now your mind will be relaxed and clear. Your brain has no defenses, now, Captain. It will give up your most protected secrets. And you will be powerless to stop it.” Ka’al narrowed his eyes at Kirk. “You decided to challenge me. I will see to it that you suffer more than anyone has ever suffered before.” He grabbed Kirk under the chin and yanked his face upwards to look into his eyes. “…unless you’re willing to tell me what I want to know. _Right now_. Starfleet’s defenses, please.”

Kirk spit in his face.

Ka’al recoiled slightly, wiping the moisture from his cheek before striking Jim across the face. Kirk’s head lolled, the medication slowly taking him as the seconds ticked by. It didn’t stop him from smirking boldly, though. Jim licked his dry lips and stared Ka’al down.

“You’re going to have to try harder than that.” Blood trickled from the corner of Jim’s mouth. “You hit like a girl.”

Ka’al said nothing as he lashed out again, the metal studs on his leather gloves raking across Kirk’s cheek. As the warmonger barraged him with blows, Kirk could only think that every minute Ka’al was here with him was another moment where McCoy was safe. He had to keep Ka’al occupied so the doctor could recover from his injuries.

Kirk spat blood onto the floor. “Now we’re talking! That last one actually stung a little!”

Another strike to the head, this time from the side, sent Jim reeling. He could really feel the medication taking hold of him. His vision clouded and it felt as if he were floating. Kirk tried to say something, but his mouth felt full of cotton, and he wasn’t sure if he had made any noise at all.

Tazan spoke quietly. “The drug seems to be working.”

Ka’al bent in close to Jim, his droopy eyes having a hard time focusing on the warlord in front of him. “It’s time, Captain. You’re going to regret the day you decided to come to my planet.” He backed away and grabbed Tazan forcefully by the arm. The older man grimaced as the Ka’al’s hand twisted his flesh. “Activate it.”

The doctor approached the machine and the guards backed away from Kirk as Tazan it on. His hands shook. A low electrical hum filled the room as current fed through the wires running towards Jim.

Kirk’s eyes rolled back and his fists clenched as the power consumed him. Everything went black for a moment as he struggled to breathe. Jim fought against the influence of the device, willing himself to not be taken by its force. But in the end—he wasn’t strong enough. A pinpoint of light, becoming brighter by the second, began to race towards him in his mind and in an instant he was no longer on Xentia.

_…The stench was overpowering._

_The room was cavernous, the air humid and thick. He fought the urge not to throw up. They were all around them. Hundreds of nameless victims piled ten-high in massive columns of decay._

**_[no]_ **

_He walked along the corridor of bodies, unsure just how he had come upon the storehouse. One thing he was sure of, though, was that he was unable to go back the way he came. The door had shut and locked behind him. He would have to find another way out._

_Clapping his hand over his mouth and nose to try and stifle the putrid aroma of rotting flesh, he pressed forward, the seemingly never-ending row of death stretching on forever in front of him. He heard a noise, like something slipping. Out of the corner of his eye, an arm slid down from above, no longer attached to the body it once served. It fell to the ground with a sickening splat, exploding upon impact. It had been wasting away for some time, he thought, as the paper-thin skin that once covered it split apart as it hit the floor, releasing the rancid fluids that had been building up since its owner’s death some weeks before._

**_[let me out]_ **

_He looked up to where the arm had fallen from just in time to see the accompanying head fall to the cement floor, dotted with brown, coagulated weeks-old blood. The head rolled for a moment, stopping right at his feet. The face looked up at him, the eyes having fallen out long before, from empty sockets. Even without the eyes, it was obvious that he was staring into the face of someone he knew._

_Alexis’ dad. Goatee…scar in his eyebrow…short black hair…_

_He couldn’t hold it in anymore. With a heave and a convulsion, he vomited on the floor. As he ran back the way he came—even though he knew he could not escape—he wiped his mouth on his sleeve, tears streaming down his face._

_Kodos had murdered his friends’ parents—and them as well. He was one of only a few of his group left. The others had been deemed “unworthy” and “undesirable” and had been rounded up. They met their fates—sometimes within the very same day, other times having to languish as they starved for more than a week before they were executed._

**_[Kodos]_ **

_He came to the door he had originally entered from and not surprisingly, found it still bolted tight. Panicking, he ran off to his left and dashed down another long hallway full of bodies. The taste of bitter bile was still fresh in his mouth as he frantically tried to find a way out of the horrendous room. He came to the end of the corridor, expanding out into an open area._

_Bodies were stacked here as well—on the floor, on carts and tables—everywhere. All waiting in a silent queue to be loaded into the large machine at the far end of the room._

_It was massive, a large chute at one end accepting people into the bowels of the beast. The other side emptied into a giant trough on wheels, ready to be rolled away to wherever the remains were to be disposed of. On top, just barely visible over the sides, the teeth of massive chopping wheels, caked with skin and blood, and the occasional stray body part not decimated by the mechanism._

_He couldn’t help but stare, thinking about the thousands of people who had been crushed within the belly of the behemoth. They all had names, families—faces. And because they weren’t lucky enough to be chosen by Kodos and his Eugenics standards, they had met their end in front of the executioner. Only to be chopped and crushed like animal by-products and dumped in the fields._

_He knew he had to get out of this room, or he would suffer the same fate as so many others._

_He desperately looked for a door that would lead him to salvation—and clean air. His eyes scanned the far wall, finally resting upon a small door. He hesitated for a moment, making sure he was truly alone before he darted across the expanse to hopeful freedom._

_Just as he was about to run, the door opened, producing two of Kodos’ goons. They had another person gripped tightly between them, struggling against their mighty grip. She screamed and flailed, frantically trying to get away. Booming laughter echoed behind them._

_Kodos stepped through the door seconds later._

_“Pity you should have to meet such a horrible end, my dear.” He came up behind the young woman, the guards releasing her into his clutches. “You were a joy to have at my disposal.” He cupped her face and kissed her forcefully. She tried to recoil away from him, twisting her head in an attempt to evade his leering lips._

**_[stop]_ **

_“But you’re going to learn the hard way that no one crosses me, darling. I don’t tolerate insubordination.” Kodos slapped the girl and pushed her to her knees. She cried out, begging him to spare her life. She pleaded, promising to be obedient. Kodos just snorted and motioned for the guards to grab her and lead her away._

_To the machine._

_Watching from the darkness, young Jim Kirk could do nothing to save her. He didn’t know her name, only recognized her face from the past. As badly as he wanted to be the one to rescue her, deep down he knew it would only mean a swift and painful death sentence for himself._

_She thrashed against the underlings, clawing at their exposed arms. She left gashes along their flesh. The guards stopped in front of the device, one reaching over to activate it._

_The gears and cogs within began to come to life, creaking and groaning as they gained momentum. The wheel that was visible at the top began to spin, what was left of the remains of the last use dropping back into the machine._

_She screamed in terror, knowing that her life was about to end. She frantically kicked at the men holding her, her bare feet squeaking against the concrete floor._

_It took only seconds as the guards lifted her into the air, kicking and screaming. They tossed her into the chute like a child’s doll and her cries stopped abruptly thereafter. A moment later, shards of bone and a rain of flesh and blood came cascading out of the other end, splattering into the trough._

_Kirk slapped his hands over his mouth, willing himself not shriek in terror._

**_[make it stop…]_ **

**_[…]_ **

**_[..]_ **

**_[.]_ **

Ka’al watched as Jim writhed in the chair. He was red in the face, eyes screwed tightly shut. His arms strained against the restraints, cutting into his wrists. Every so often his eyelids would crack open, revealing the whites of orbs that had rolled back into his head. Gasping cries sprung from his lips, whatever he was seeing in his mind terrifying him.

“Master, his heart rate is dangerously high.” Tazan pointed to the readout on the machine. “We need to end this or he could die.”

“Not yet, doctor. Mister Kirk seems to be enjoying this way too much.” Ka’al smirked and wrung his hands together. He was having fun watching Kirk suffer. He approached the convulsing Captain, grabbing the hair at the back of his neck and yanking his head back abruptly. He leaned in close and shouted into Jim’s ear. “Don’t give out on me yet, James! The fun has just begun!”

Kirk shook in his seat, a thin line of saliva dribbling down his chin. His legs jerked out from underneath him at all angles, kicking at invisible demons. Seconds later, blood began to trickle from his nose. He thrashed his head from side-to-side, knocking Ka’al’s hand away with the abrupt movement.

“Kodos! Stop!”

The warmonger backed away, surprised at Kirk’s outburst. “ _Kodos?_ Where have I heard that name?”

“I believe I read somewhere in Starfleet history texts that there had been a Governor Kodos on Tarsus Four. There was a famine and he had over half of the population executed in order to save food supplies. It was rumored to be very brutal.” He looked at Kirk sympathetically, his skin shining with a pale blue hue. “Kodos was thought to be killed, but there are many who believe that he is still at large. Perhaps Captain Kirk was witness to the atrocities?”

Ka’al smiled sinisterly. “It seems as though Starfleet really wants to protect him. Let’s up the power and see if we can’t dredge some more unpleasant memories from his mind.”

“Master! He’s on the verge of death as it is! Look at his heart; it’s struggling to keep up.” Tazan pleaded with the warrior. “He needs to be disconnected right now or he won’t survive!”

Ka’al scowled, his tongue flicking out into the air. He certainly wasn’t ready for the fun to end. But, he also didn’t want his guest to die…yet. He reluctantly allowed the elderly doctor to stop the onslaught.

“Very well, turn it off.”

Tazan breathed a silent sigh of relief and quickly switched the machine off. Kirk’s body continued to tremble in the chair, blood dripping from his nostrils and into his open mouth. Not once did he open his eyes. He coughed, gagging slightly on the crimson liquid. After a long moment, his head drooped and fell forward to hand between his shoulders. The blips on the heart monitor began to calm, although Kirk’s erratic breathing did not. Pained moans escaped his lips with each exhale. He began to mumble incoherently as blood began to trickle from his right ear.

Ka’al blew out a long breath. “It seems that your machine is a success, Doctor Tazan. Although it didn’t produce any secrets of the Federation, the results are most pleasing.” He approached Kirk and pushed his head back, the young Captain’s lungs exhaling an anguished moan as he did so. “But he suffered, and that makes me happy.” He let Jim’s head fall free again and turned to leave the room.

“Disconnect him and throw him back in his cell. I’m sure McCoy is anxious to see him again.” He turned to Tazan, wagging a long clawed finger at him. “And you. Re-calibrate that device of yours. I want to use it again in the morning. Make sure he’ll be able to endure a longer session this time.”

 

XxX   XxX   XxX   XxX   XxX   XxX  

 

“Jim?” McCoy gripped the bars between the cells so hard his knuckles turned white. He ignored the searing pain erupting from his abdomen; the leftover result of Ka’al’s beating hours before. “Jim, please talk to me!”

Kirk lay on his side, the guards having unceremoniously tossed him into his cell a few minutes prior. He quaked on the floor, hands clenched into tight fists. Moaning quietly, Jim curled up into the fetal position. McCoy could see the dried blood on his neck and chest. It seemed to have dripped from his ears and nose. Jim’s eyes were fluttering open every few seconds, but McCoy doubted he could see him. It was apparent by Kirk’s incoherent mumbling and breathy whimpers that he was under the influence of some sort of drug.

“Jim…darlin’. Please…”

_Please answer me._

_I need to know you’re alright._

Kirk groaned but did not respond with words. McCoy was desperate, wanted to reach out and touch him so badly. He wished Jim was closer to him so he could at least offer a comforting hand through the bars. He silently pleaded Kirk to answer him, to open his eyes and flash the blue that McCoy wanted to see so badly.

He felt anger welling up inside of him. Anger at the men—man—who had done whatever they had done to the Captain.

His Captain.

To his Jim.

He turned his rage towards the guard who was sitting at the end of the hall. McCoy yelled at him, fury seething in his tone. “What the hell did you bastards do to him?” He was met with mocking laughter and a threat to quiet, lest they take Kirk again.

Leonard sank back against the bars and watched hopelessly as Kirk tried to surface from his unconscious haze. He felt helpless as Jim rolled on the ground, pressure from a new position obviously causing instant pain, for Kirk immediately inhaled sharply and cried out.

“Jim, just stay still, alright?” McCoy could feel his cheeks flush. “Take it easy.”

He scrutinized Kirk for several long moments, watching as the medication that was coursing through Jim’s body slowly wore off. His limbs jerked unnaturally as nerve endings began to fire back to life after being under the influence for so long. A raspy cough wracked through him, Jim pressing his eyes shut in a painful grimace. He wrapped his arms around his own bare torso. McCoy couldn’t tell if it was because he was cold or in pain.

_Probably both._

“Bones…”

McCoy pressed his face into the space between the bars, trying to get even a little bit closer to Kirk. He reached out to him, even though he knew there was no way he could touch him in both their present positions. He just wanted Jim to see the gesture.

“I’m right here, darlin’. You gotta stay calm.”

Kirk craned his neck to turn his face towards McCoy. Bloodshot eyes stared at the doctor. Dried blood crusted under his nose and around his ears. His voice was eerily feeble, and it unnerved the doctor.

“Hurts…”

“Looks like it does, kid.” He watched as Kirk tried to scoot himself closer to the wall of bars separating their cells. His movements were slow and shaky. Jim needed to stop several times, even though the distance from his original position to McCoy was less than five feet. “Just take it slow.”

Kirk finally made it to the bars, McCoy immediately reaching out and laying a hand on the young Captain’s head, carding his fingers through his hair. He tried to soothe as best he could—or as much as their current situation would allow. Kirk sighed and made no attempt to sit up right away, instead he lay there, shivering and breathing shallow.

“Jim, can you look at me for a second?”

Kirk cracked his eyes open, trying to focus as McCoy brought his own face as close as he could. The doctor peered into both eyes, trying to ascertain Jim’s neurological condition without any technology at his disposal.

“My head hurts, Bones.”

“I’m sure it does.” McCoy reached through the bars and rubbed his thumb over raised welts running in a neat line across Jim’s forehead. “What did they do to you?”

Kirk pushed himself up with a grunt, wavering slightly as his equilibrium tried to adjust to the change in altitude. He leaned sideways against the bars, McCoy replacing his hand in Jim’s hair as soon as he was situated.

Jim sighed tiredly. “They used…some sort of machine…”

“Machine?” Leonard scrutinized the bumps on Kirk’s forehead. “On your head?”

Kirk nodded lethargically. “Ka’al said it would…find bad memories…” He shuddered and pulled his arms tight around his body. “Boy did it ever.”

McCoy reached both arms through the bars and wrapped them around Kirk’s shivering body. He didn’t care if the rusty metal was scratching his skin or he was sitting in the most uncomfortable position he had ever been in. Just to feel Jim’s body heat under his palms, knowing that was able to comfort him—albeit weakly—made nothing else matter.

Kirk melted into his awkward embrace. “I was on Tarsus, Bones. I mean, I was really there. I could…smell it.”

The doctor could only imagine how horrible it had been to relive the horrors of Tarsus. Kirk rarely spoke of it, and then only with McCoy. And when he did, Jim was oftentimes reduced to tears, cowering in the comfort of Leo’s arms. As far as he knew, he and Spock were the only people aboard the ship who knew Jim had been there. Starfleet needed to keep his identity a secret, to protect him from the madman that was rumored in some circles to still be at large.

Jim’s fingers slowly crept up his bicep, feeling for McCoy’s own. When he found them, Kirk quickly wrapped his hand around that of the doctor, squeezing tightly. “I stumbled upon this room one time…full of…” Kirk choked back a sob.

“It’s okay, darlin’. You don’t have to tell me.”

“This machine brought me back there, to the warehouse of bodies. I could feel the thick air like it was yesterday. It was so humid in there from all the rotting people…”

_He never told me about this before._

_I don’t want to hear this…_

“…he killed her, Bones. And I didn’t stop him.”

“Who?”

“I don’t know. I never knew her name.” Kirk sighed, a rattling cough following soon after. “One minute she was there, and the next…gone.”

McCoy tried to pull Kirk closer, eliciting a pained groan from his counterpart. But Jim didn’t pull away; instead he let himself be held uncomfortably through the bars. “Gone?”

“I don’t want to talk about it anymore.”

Leo just silently nodded his acknowledgement in the darkness, craning his head to place a light kiss in Jim’s hair. They sat in silence for a long moment; Jim’s chattering teeth and far-off dripping water the only sounds in the prison. McCoy wished he had a blanket to offer Kirk.

“Where’s your shirt, kid?”

Kirk shrugged.

McCoy peered into the darkness of Kirk’s cell, hoping his clothes had been tossed in with him. He couldn’t believe it when he saw Jim’s shirt and jacket. He nudged Jim gently. “I see it, over there in the other corner. You should go get it, there’s no use sittin’ here freezing.”

“ ‘M fine here. You’re keeping me warm.”

“Not warm enough, you’re still shivering.” He poked his finger into Jim’s side. “Now, go on. Fetch it so you can warm up.”

Jim begrudgingly did what he was told, groaning as he crawled over to the other wall to retrieve his torn and bloodied shirt. He gingerly pulled it on, his weak fingers fumbling with the buttons. After a few tries, he grumbled and gave up trying to close the front. He shuffled back to McCoy, his movements slow and deliberate.

“C’mere, darlin’.” McCoy beckoned Jim with his finger.

Jim approached, lying down next to the wall of bars. He rolled onto his side, groaning as he tried to find a semi-comfortable position. “I’m tired, Bones.”

McCoy didn’t want to let him fall asleep. Not until he knew just what Ka’al and his scientists had done to Jim’s brain. A machine capable of digging into someone’s memories and bringing them vividly back had to be powerful—and who knows what kind of lingering side effects it had on an already weakened man. Everything he had learned in medical school was screaming at him to keep Kirk lucid and alert, hundreds of potential adverse reactions running rampant through his stressed mind.

_Jim passing out._

_Jim not waking up._

_Jim going into cardiac arrest._

_Jim…_

_…dying._

But looking at Kirk now, pale and exhausted on the dirty stone floor, his better judgment was overtaken by the frail man at his knees. He wanted Kirk to be comfortable, to be able to rest. Because he knew that they both had a long, difficult fight ahead of them. Especially if Ka’al used his machine again.

McCoy exhaled deeply. “Go ahead and close your eyes, kid. I’ll keep an eye on ya.” He leaned down and Jim raised his head as high as he could up to the space between the bars. The doctor kissed him softly on the forehead—Jim’s lips were just out of reach.

Kirk’s voice began to drift off. “We’re gonna be…okay…Bones. We have to…be…”

McCoy wanted to believe him. But stuck in a dank alien prison, he wasn’t holding out any hope that Jim’s promise would be fulfilled. He ran his fingers through Jim’s short blond locks with a heavy sigh.

_At least we’re together…_

Leonard didn’t sleep at all that night.


	10. Chapter Ten

Shot in the Dark: Chapter Ten

                This time Jim was scared.

Scared of the drug. Scared of Ka’al.

Scared of the _machine_.

He didn’t fight, as he knew it would be pointless and would more than likely prolong his suffering. He just prayed Tarsus wouldn’t torment him again. As Tazan fitted the band around his forehead, he could feel his body begin to shake. He didn’t have any control, and he was afraid that Ka’al would notice.

_I don’t want to do this anymore._

_Why did we come back?_

_I don’t want…_

_…Tarsus._

“Your neck, Captain.”

Jim snapped himself out of his thoughts at the sound of Ka’al’s voice. The warmonger stood towering over him, tapping his claws on his crossed forearms. Tazan stood next to him, meek and visibly anxious. His hands trembled, the syringe bouncing slightly with the movement.

_No more._

Kirk stared at Tazan’s hand, watching the blue liquid slosh around in the canister of the syringe as his hands shook. The older man’s eyes pleaded with him to comply willingly. He didn’t need to say anything—and would have been killed had he even tried. He raised the hypodermic close to Jim’s neck and moved to inject the serum.

Jim unconsciously pulled back from the needle.

Ka’al smirked wickedly and in one swift movement had grabbed both Kirk’s head and the syringe. He wrenched Jim’s head to the side, exposing the bruised flesh of his neck. Without hesitation, he shoved the needle into the Captain’s jugular and pushed the plunger.

It felt like acid going into Jim’s body.

“I’m amazed you still wish to fight me, James. Especially after the last time.” Ka’al tossed the used needle aside. “How soon you forget how painful it was.”

_I didn’t forget._

_I can never forget._

Jim managed a wry smile as he responded, the drug acting more quickly this time. “Didn’t…even…hurt…” There it was, the Kirk defense mechanism again. Even though inside, he was more afraid than he had been since childhood, the overpowering urge to fight back, to never show his weaknesses, took over.

“We shall see about that.” Ka’al motioned to Tazan to begin the current. “Higher setting this time, if you please.”

“Y-yes, Master.” Tazan briefly looked in Jim’s direction, his skin glowing a pale blue. Ka’al just stood there silently. Waiting.

Kirk closed his eyes and waited for the click of the button. Seconds after he heard it, he felt as if his mind was being pulled away from his body and the light once again raced towards him.

_Jim could see McCoy’s brow sweating._

_He was lying down—no, being held down. Spock’s strong hands pressed into his flesh, pinning him to the bed._

**_[please not this]_ **

_He could feel sharp claws in his hair, raking through in an attempt to calm him. His shoulder and thigh throbbed, a there was a deep and gnawing pain in his abdomen. The room was stifling, and yet he felt cold. He could smell the stench of his own blood on the sheets underneath him, the wetness sticking to his back._

_He watched as McCoy licked dry lips, his hand trembling as he reached for his laser scalpel._

_“I’ll make this as quick as I can Jim.”_

_Kirk closed his eyes and nodded with his waning strength. Something was being placed in his mouth, flexible and bitter tasting. The texture was rough against his tongue._

_He was just about to call out to Bones, to beg him to stop before he even started—but it was too late. The worst pain he had ever felt in his life erupted from his belly and he head himself scream. It reverberated through his ears, coursing through his entire body._

_He felt himself buck off of the bed, trying desperately to get away from the searing burn washing over his entire torso. Hot tears flowed from his eyes as the strip of leather that had been between his teeth fell aside. His right hand curled into the sheets of the bed so tightly, his fingernails punctured holes in the fabric._

_“Spock, hold him tighter!” Jim cracked his eyes open for just a moment. McCoy’s face was panicked as he frantically barked orders. “And put that towel over his mouth! The soldiers will hear him for sure!”_

**_[bones stop!]_ **

_The agony radiated as McCoy drew the scalpel across his abdomen. He could feel warm blood begin to pour out of his body. Just when Jim thought the anguish couldn’t get any worse, he felt McCoy’s fingers dig into the new wound and pull._

_New pain shot through him as the pressure of the internal bleeding was released. Even though his belly no longer felt bloated, the white-hot sensation of Bones’ fingers yanking his skin open was almost too much for him to bear._

_He sobbed into the soft cloth over his mouth, hearing his own muffled cries echoing off the walls of the room. Jim felt a strange coolness on his forehead as Mak’ai rested her face on his skin. He could hear a soft hissing in his left ear trying to soothe him._

_It didn’t help._

_Jim tried to kick his legs, only to find they were still being held tightly by the strong strap. His fingers curled and uncurled as waves of pain flowed over him. He wanted to scream at Bones to stop, but he knew it wouldn’t make a difference. He wasn’t going to rest until the bullets were out._

_Spock’s hands held him tightly, and Kirk tried feverishly to wriggle away from him. But no amount of straining was going to break the Vulcan’s mighty grip._

_The feeling of invasion came again as McCoy dug into the gaping wound. Kirk could feel his fingertips moving tissue and muscle out of the way as he delved deeper. The feeling of the Doctor’s fingers grasping—something—and tugging at it sent a new flash of torment through Jim and he screamed again._

_But his strength was leaving him._

_His eyes opened for a split second to see Bones stick his penlight in his mouth with bloody hands and direct the beam onto his stomach. The light was garbling his speech._

_“I see you, you little bastard.”_

_Jim felt something sharp jab into his gut, nausea overtaking him along with a cascade of new anguish. Spock’s hands tightened around his biceps and held him to the bed, pressing him into the mattress. No matter how hard he tried to get away, his First Officer wasn’t relenting._

**_[no more!]_ **

_Kirk could feel McCoy’s tweezers latch onto something inside him and pull. He arched his back and pushed up against Spock’s might with a terrible scream as he felt himself float away…_

**_[…]_ **

**_[..]_ **

**_[.]_ **

Jim’s entire body slumped in the chair, his head hanging limply in-between his shoulders. A thin stream of saliva dribbled from his open mouth. His eyes were cracked open slightly, but were unseeing and still.

He was unconscious.

“What happened?” Ka’al grabbed Jim by the chin and yanked his head back. Jim’s blind eyes stared out into the room. “Why is he still?”

“I believe he has passed out, Master.” Tazan cowered next to the machine, checking Kirk’s cardiac readout.

“Wake him up! We’re not done yet!” Ka’al released Jim’s face, letting the young Captain’s head fall back into its original position. He shook Kirk by the shoulders before slapping him across the cheek. He leaned in and screamed directly into his ear. “You’re weak! Prove to me that you’re the man Starfleet makes you out to be!”

Tazan scowled at the lines bouncing on the screen of the device. “Master, his heart is showing signs of distress.” He moved closer and observed Jim’s breathing pattern. “And he’s breathing erratically. We could damage his brain if we’re not careful.”

Ka’al grabbed Tazan by the collar and lifted him into the air. “You will wake him up right now!” He dropped the old man onto the floor, Tazan crumbling into a heap at the warrior’s feet.

“But, Master…”

Ka’al kicked him in the abdomen, sending a spray of bright orange blood from Tazan’s lips. “This is your last chance, old man. Either you rouse him, or I kill you.”

Tazan silently pushed himself up and reached for a ready-filled syringe. He injected it into Jim’s neck and within seconds, Kirk’s eyes shot open and immediately rolled back into his head, a raspy gasp billowing from his lips. The Captain began to tremble as the drug made its way through his system.

“Shame on you, James. Trying to leave before we’ve had all our fun.”

Jim tried to focus on Ka’al, but found it incredibly hard to get his eyes to center on the tyrant’s face. His lips moved slowly, as if he were trying to say something, but no sound escaped him.

_No more…_

“What’s that, Captain? You’ll need to speak up.”

Jim swallowed hard. He wanted to be anywhere but that room. He screwed his eyes shut, hoping that he would wake up back on the _Enterprise_ , safe in McCoy’s arms. But the feeling of Ka’al’s hot, stinking breath on his cheek brought him back to reality.

“I’m not ready to let you falter just yet, Captain Kirk. I’m enjoying this way too much.” He flicked his tongue out, lightly ghosting across Jim’s forehead. “I still haven’t gotten any secrets out of you!”

Ka’al motioned to the older man. “More power! I want him to beg me for mercy!”

_Please don’t…_

_I’ll…_

_I’ll talk…_

“Master, you are putting him in great danger. This high of a setting with undoubtedly do damage to his neural functions. It may even kill him.”

Ka’al grabbed Tazan by the arm and forced him to the machine. “Do it now, or I’ll slit your throat.”

The elderly doctor turned a small dial with a feeble hand, the indicator showing red where it once was black. He looked back at Jim briefly before flipping the switch.

**_[help me]_ **

_Jim saw him too late._

_Frank lunged at him, the wind knocked out of his body as the baseball bat slammed into his ribs. He fell to the floor, gasping for air._

_“You little bastard!”_

_Jim held his hands up in submission, only to have them kicked away. He had only seconds to dodge the bat again. He skittered away across the dusty wooden floor of the house in Riverside, scrambling through an open door and into the kitchen._

_“What makes you think you can just take without asking?” The man stumbled in his drunken stupor for a moment, crashing into the door jamb. “My car is at the bottom of the quarry because of you!”_

_Frank came up right behind him, the bat making contact with the small of his back as he tried to get away. Searing pain tore up his spine. He heard the bat hit the floor with a loud clatter and seconds later felt the drunk man’s hands on his shoulders. Jim was tossed like a rag doll against the wall, the pictures hanging there jostling from the force of the blow._

_“You think your mama can save you?” The drunkard grabbed him by the shoulders and squeezed._

_Kirk looked frantically for an escape route. The door leading to the back porch was too far away and more than likely locked. Frank blocked the exit into the dining room. The only other passage was the basement door, which was cracked slightly open. Once down there, Jim knew he could get out via the cellar trap door, but his stepfather would be hot on his heels the entire time—if he could even get away from him._

_Jim licked his lower lip, tasting blood from the split in the soft flesh. If he went limp, he thought, he might be able to wriggle away from him. A well placed kick to the groin would almost surely sideline the lumbering hulk long enough for him to make his way to the basement and pull the door closed behind him. He knew it didn’t have a lock, but if Frank was nursing a throbbing scrotum, it would buy him some time._

_“You look just like your goddamn father!” Frank closed the gap between them and spit in his face._

_Jim closed his eyes for a brief moment in meditation before letting his entire body go flaccid. Frank, confused, actually let go for a split second as the young man crumpled to the floor. Just as Jim was about to raise his heel and make contact with Frank’s groin, the older man figured out what was going on. He grabbed Kirk by the head, yanking him upwards with such force that Jim thought his spine might actually release from the base of his skull._

_“You can’t get away from me, you miserable little thief!” Frank smashed his knuckles into Jim’s nose, breaking it instantly. Blood poured from his nostrils, a sharp pain shooting through his eyes. He could see the intense fury burning in his stepfather’s expression as he cocked his arm for another blow._

_“Stay here and fight me like a man!”_

_Jim braced himself for another strike, which came seconds later with brutal force. Frank’s fist slammed into his stomach, immediately forcing a mix of blood and bile from Jim’s lips. He cried out in pain._

**_[make it stop]_ **

_Frank laughed as he pinned Jim against the wall. He grabbed for a bottle of scotch on the hutch next to him, draining the last of the contents in a single swig. After finishing it, he broke the bottle over the countertop and held the jagged edge to Kirk’s throat._

_“I could kill you right now. You’re nothing but another goddamn mouth to feed around here!” He pressed the razor sharp glass to Kirk’s skin. “Sam’s not here, your bitch of a mother’s not here…it’s just you and me.”_

_Jim winced as the glass began to pierce his throat._

_“What, you don’t even have anything to say for yourself?”_

**_[stay quiet]_ **

_He heard his own voice, weak and shaking. “F-fuck…you…Frank…”_

_The older man sneered and pushed the broken bottle piece harder into Jim’s neck, blood beginning to dribble down into his shirt collar. His breath stunk like cheap booze and cigarettes._

_“You’re worthless! No one would miss you if I slit your throat right now.” He drew the shard across Jim’s neck, etching a shallow line in the skin. “No one loves you, kid. No one ever will.”_

_Frank dropped the piece of glass and slammed his forehead into Jim’s own, sending him reeling. A moment later he was thrown across the room, colliding with the stove with incredible force. Kirk fell to his knees, trying draw air into his aching lungs. He couldn’t lift his head more than a few inches off the ground. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Frank’s dirty work boots coming closer. The man stopped directly in front of him. His voice echoed off the walls, which were covered in chipping pale blue paint._

_“You’re going to die right here, you little son of a bitch. No one messes with me.”_

_Jim screwed his eyes tightly shut and waited. Frank’s boot connected with his chest and his world went black._

**_[…]_ **

**_[..]_ **

**_[.]_ **

Jim’s body convulsed as white froth sputtered from his lips.  Blood began to trickle from his nostrils and into his open mouth, tinging the foam red.

Tazan quickly turned the machine off, then looked to Ka’al with terror in his eyes for what he had done.

Ka’al narrowed his eyes. “I didn’t give you permission to turn it off!”

The older man recoiled back as Ka’al moved towards him. Tazan immediately ran to Kirk’s side and took his head in his hands. He tried to look into his eyes, but was met with white, as they had rolled back into their sockets.

“Master, we are killing him!” He looked back over his shoulder in a panic, pleading for not only the life of the Starfleet man, but his own as well. “His brain is being overloaded and he’s seizing!”

Ka’al grabbed him by the arm and pulled so hard he dislocated the shoulder joint. Tazan fell to his knees, cradling his injured arm. “You dare defy me?”

Tazan held his hand up in surrender. “M-master, please! If you kill him, you gain nothing!”

“So then I will kill you for being insubordinate.” He kicked the toe of his boot into the elderly man’s chest. Ka’al reached into his coat and drew a long, curved blade. He bent down and placed the sharp edge against Tazan’s throat.

Jim continued to shake in the chair next to them, his breaths coming in short and uneven gasps. He choked on the substance collecting in his mouth. His fingers were outstretched and stiff, legs kicking out in all directions without any control from his brain. The seizure was violent and un-ending.

“Please, Sir! You can’t kill me!”

“And why not? You have shown your lack of loyalty time and time again, old man.” Ka’al pressed the blade harder.

“Because,” Tazan threatened, finding bravado where there had previously been none.” “If you kill me, you will have rid yourself of the only person who knows how to use the device. You murdered all my students from the Science Guild. The secret of the machine belongs to me and me alone.”

Ka’al hesitated for a moment before removing the blade. He puffed hot air from his nostrils in Tazan’s face before jamming the knife into his eye. The older man screamed in agony. Ka’al twisted and removed the blade, the eyeball popping out with it. Orange blood streamed from the now empty socket. Ka’al stood, tossing the sullied knife aside.

“Throw him back in his cell.” Ka’al looked to Kirk, who had begun to calm in his chair. His eyes fluttered open inconsistently as his body’s nervous system began to reboot. “And cauterize your wound so you don’t bleed to death. You’re going to have another victim very soon.”

 

XxX   XxX   XxX   XxX   XxX   XxX  

 

This time, Jim was mumbling incoherently when the guards shoved him into his cell.

McCoy watched silently as the two men manhandled the young Captain, one of them giving him a kick in the small of the back as he exited. He waited until they had locked the door before he scrambled over to the bars separating them.

“Jim?” McCoy reached out, just barely able to touch the fabric of Kirk’s shirt, tugging loosely. “Roll over, darlin’. Tell me what hurts.”

The younger man just rambled, his words slurring together. “…stop…Frank…won’t tell… _’terprise_ …”

“Jim, listen to me. Wherever you think you are—whatever you believe is happening…it isn’t. I’m here and you’re safe.”

_What a load of bullshit._

“…can’t…bat…hurts, Bones…feel it…” A few tears slipped down Jim’s cheek. “…why’re you…Spock…don’t let ‘m…die…”

“Calm down, Jim.” McCoy shifted his position in order to try and get closer to Kirk. The Captain made this somewhat easier by choosing that moment to roll onto his back. As the Doctor reached through the bars to tangle his fingers in Jim’s hair, he noticed the telltale signs that Jim had been the victim of a seizure.

_Froth on his lips._

_Unfocused eyes._

_Confused rambling._

_Not again…_

He watched as Jim writhed on the floor, his hands clenched tightly at his sides. His body continued to go rigid every few moments, signaling that the seizure was anything but over. Even though it wasn’t as severe as the first one he had gone through in Mak’ai’s home, the convulsions were still worrisome. Whatever that machine was doing to him was going to fry his brain if they kept using it.

McCoy kissed his fingertips and gently touched them to Jim’s cheek. “I’ll be right back.”

He crossed the cell and began banging on his door. The guard hissed a threat in his native language that McCoy paid no attention to. “Hey! He’s having seizures in there! You need to let me treat him, or Ka’al’s not gonna be able to play with him anymore! His brain’ll be mush!”

_I’m not kidding._

_He’s really in bad shape._

“Shut your mouth, human!” The soldier jumped up and barreled down the hall, kicking the door with his massive boot as he arrived.

McCoy steeled his expression. “You really want a Starfleet Officer’s death on your hands? Ka’al will blame you, y’know.”

The guard thought for a moment before huffing and turning around to walk away. He sat back on his chair and turned his head away from the Doctor. Frustrated, Leonard quickly made his way back to Jim’s side—or as close as he could come—and tried to soothe him as best he could.

“Darlin’, just try and relax. I know the tremors are probably pretty painful and scary.” Jim moaned softly as another quake rocked him. McCoy could only watch helplessly. “Don’t tense, okay? Let it wash over you and they’ll get better little by little. I promise.”

_I hope._

“…’ones?” Kirk’s voice was weak and he kept his eyes closed tightly.

“Right here, Jim. You’re going to be alright.” He reached through the bars and grasped Jim’s pinky finger—it was the only part of the young man he could reach. Jim curled the digit around McCoy’s own.

They sat quietly for a long moment, Leonard watching as the tremors began to subside, Jim becoming more coherent with each passing minute. He was finally going to let himself breathe a sigh of relief when he heard footsteps in the hallway.

_You can’t take him again._

_You’ll kill him…_

It was apparent that Jim also heard the noise, because he tried to sit up. McCoy pushed him down as best he could. “Lay down, dammit. If you look hurt they might not take you this time.” He whispered in a low tone.

McCoy’s heart sunk when his own cell door opened.

He barely had time to let go of Kirk’s hand before he was being yanked into a standing position. The soldiers grabbed him—each by an arm—and pulled him out of the cell.

Jim cried out for them to take him instead.

 

XxX   XxX   XxX   XxX   XxX   XxX  

 

The guards had just finished cuffing him to the chair when he heard the commotion out in the hall. It sounded like another prisoner was making trouble. At least he could tell from the voice that it wasn’t Jim, as it was hissing in Xentian.

A frail man stood in the corner of the room, watching as the two soldiers scrambled out to see what the fuss was about. McCoy noticed right away that the man was missing an eye. And it looked fresh, as bright orange blood seeped through a hastily applied bandage wrapped around his head. His right arm hung at an awkward angle, and the doctor suspected it had been dislocated and jammed back in recently.

Leonard didn’t know what it was about the man—whether it was his age or the way he looked at the guards with fear in his eyes—but he knew that this guy wasn’t one of Ka’al’s willing goons. He decided to take a chance.

_What’s the worst that could happen?_

_Right…they could kill me._

“Looks like that hurts somethin’ fierce.” McCoy awkwardly gestured to the older man’s eye with his cuffed hand.

The man’s eyes bulged when the Doctor spoke. His own voice was hushed. “Please don’t speak! You would be wise to comply with whatever happens.” He looked to the door before continuing. “Your friend didn’t listen and…”

“Doesn’t surprise me that Jim would put up a fight.” McCoy scanned his eyes upwards as the man fit a band around his head. “Name’s McCoy.   Doctor Leonard McCoy.”

“Please be silent! The guards will be back at any moment.” He tightened the strap, wincing as he needed to use both his injured and uninjured arm to do so.

“You got a name?” McCoy hated the way the strap felt on his scalp. It dug in at a weird angle.

“M-my name is Tazan. The machine…is my creation.”

Leonard’s eyes trained on the device resting on the cart beside him. He studied the leads and wires coming out of it, as well as the various screens and dials. All the lettering was in Xentian.

“You mind telling me just what your machine does? I think you owe me that much before you torture me with it.”

Tazan furrowed his brow as he attached two cardiac monitors to McCoy’s chest. He looked to the door again, obviously fearful that they would be interrupted at any moment. He hesitated as he busied himself with the devices, not willing to make eye contact with the captive.

“Come on, I’m a doctor, not a mind reader! Tell me before it’s too late. It might be the only way I can save Kirk.” He licked his dry lips. “He’s on his way to losing it, dammit! I might not be able to help him if you don’t give me a little somethin’ to go on!”

Tazan plugged the ends of the cardio monitors into the device before running quickly to the door, standing on his tip-toes to peer out of the small window. He scurried back and leaned in close, his voice barely above a whisper.

“It digs into the cerebral cortex and retrieves memories. It was never intended for use like this. I created it to help traumatic brain injury patients have some semblance of a normal life. The object was to use their own pleasant memories to heal their brains.” He looked back to the door. “Ka’al made me recalibrate it. To…torture.” He hung his head.

“How high is the power setting? Human brains are pretty skittish. One wrong move and you can wipe it clean.”

_This is gonna suck._

“We started low, but Ka’al—he…”

McCoy knew what he was going to say. That he had ordered the settings be raised for Jim.

_No wonder he seized._

“Look, Captain Kirk needs medical attention that I can’t give him in this shithole. You need to convince Ka’al that he’s killing him. Because if you don’t, that’s exactly what’s going to happen.”

Tazan shook his head silently as he wrung his hands together.

“Dammit, listen to me! He’s gonna…”

The door swung open and Ka’al burst through the door. He approached and came to a stop inches from McCoy.

“It’s your turn, Doctor. I want you to experience what your lover went through.” He motioned for Tazan to inject him with the drug. He didn’t have any warning as he felt a sharp prick in his jugular, then a hot rush in his veins as the medication began to move.

“Forgive me if I forgo the chit-chat, but Captain Kirk stripped me of what little patience I had left.” Ka’al stood, his long claws clicking against the chain mail surrounding his chest.

Before McCoy could respond, he heard a switch being thrown and was instantly pulled from his body with a painful surge.

**_[what the hell?]_ **

_The room was dim; the many monitors bedside had long since been turned off. Dusk was falling, bathing the area in a pale purple light. Thunder rumbled somewhere off in the distance, a hot Georgia breeze blowing in through an open window._

_McCoy stood silently in the corner, watching._

_The figure in the bed stirred slightly, a soft moan escaping from dry lips. A frail hand reached out into the growing darkness._

_“Son. Leonard…please…”_

_He looked down at his own hands, his eyes settling on the syringe curled in his trembling fingers. He knew what the old man wanted._

_But Leonard was being selfish. He didn’t want his father to go. Even if it meant keeping him in agony, so the family could have a few more weeks with him._

_Pyrrhoneuritis was a terrible disease, painful and debilitating. McCoy had exhausted all his options as far as pain management. His father was a physician; he knew he had a death sentence. He knew son was doing everything he could to keep him comfortable._

_But he wouldn’t do the one thing he wanted most of all._

_“Son, don’t make me beg. We both know it’s time.”_

**_[I can’t do this again.]_ **

_His hand clenched around the needle. Leonard ran his thumb over the smooth surface of the barrel. He envisioned the bright red liquid going into his father’s veins, ending his misery. He would go peacefully, slipping off into nothingness as he drifted to an endless sleep. No pain._

_But he also imagined his mother. She would be alone in the huge family home. No one to protect her. He had no siblings, and the closest cousins were several hours away. Not that his father had been able to help much with anything in the last six months, but the thought of her being all alone—every day and every night—weighed heavily upon him._

_“I…don’t know if I can.”_

_His father beckoned to him with a bony finger. McCoy obeyed and moved closer to the bed. He fell to his knees at the man’s side, resting his head on the mattress._

_“You’re a McCoy, son,” his father reminded, his fingers brushing lightly through the hair on his head. “We’re a strong bunch, but we also know when time’s run out.”_

_Leonard’s voice was muffled by the blanket. “If I could only find something—anything—that could help you.”_

_“You’ve tried valiantly, Len. But it’s time to let go.” His father’s hand slipped away and a cough rattled his body. “I’m so tired. Please son, send me on my way.”_

**_[stop! Don’t do it!]_ **

_Leonard took a deep breath and leaned upwards again to look at his father. Tears were collecting in the older man’s eyes. He stood and looked at his hand, the syringe waiting to be used. His father looked at it too; both hope and fear in his expression._

_“Son…”_

_Without words, Leonard uncapped the needle and injected the solution into the IV port in his father’s hand. He watched the liquid empty out of the canister, disappearing into thin, frail veins. The old man sighed deeply and closed his eyes. He was waiting._

_McCoy knew it would take only minutes for it to be over. The used syringe dropped from his hand and clattered to the floor, rolling under the bed. He hung his head, in reverence and regret._

_“I’m sorry I couldn’t save you.”_

_His father’s response was weak. Len knew the drug was already shutting his body down. In a moment, he would slip away into unconsciousness, to be followed quickly by a silent and painless cardiac arrest. “I’m proud…of you…Leonard.”_

_He wanted to tell his father he loved him. To let him know what a wonderful role model he had been and how much he would be missed. But he couldn’t bring himself to say anything. Instead, he just watched as his father’s breathing became more and more shallow._

_McCoy tried to tell himself he had done the right thing, that he had granted his father’s dying wish—and that’s what a son was supposed to do. The older man’s chest stopped moving seconds later, and Leonard knew it was over._

**_[the cure…]_ **

**_[five weeks from now…]_ **

**_[…]_ **

**_[..]_ **

**_[.]_ **

Leonard could feel himself being pulled back into the room, instantly feeling the restraints cutting into his wrists. He bucked backwards in the chair as he entered his body once more. A gasp sprung from his lips, followed by a dry, raspy cough. He felt as if he was unable to catch his breath, and that a Ceti Eel was boring into his skull.

The pain was unbelievable.

He screwed his eyes shut as wave after wave of searing-hot anguish tore through his head. Vomit parked itself right at the base of his esophagus, taunting him with every lurch of his stomach. He could feel it rise and fall again with every breath he took. Swallowing hard, he dared to crack open one eye. He immediately regretted his decision, as the light from the room blinded him momentarily.

And all the while, he knew that Jim had more than likely gone through something a hundred times worse than what he was feeling.

“Well, well, Doctor McCoy.” Ka’al’s voice boomed through his head. “How did you like your time with Tazan’s device? Feel like talking yet?”

Leonard’s thoughts were beginning to become fuzzy as he fought to stay conscious. He groaned pitifully as he let his head droop. Ka’al grabbed him by the scruff of the neck and yanked his head back. He tried to focus on the warmonger’s features, but his brain wouldn’t cooperate. The room started to spin and McCoy was barely aware that he was being unstrapped and dragged from the room.

 

XxX   XxX   XxX   XxX   XxX   XxX  

 

_“Bones...”_

Leonard didn’t want to open his eyes.

_“Please…talk to me.”_

He recognized the voice, even though it was weak and stressed. As he cracked his eyes open, the fuzzy image of Kirk came into view. They were both on their sides, facing each other through the bars. Even in his weakened state, McCoy could tell that Jim was still in bad shape. He didn’t seem to have moved even an inch since he had been taken away.

McCoy tried to raise his body off of the ground, only to find that his nerve endings felt like they were on fire. Every muscle fiber in his body screamed at him as he moved. He grunted as his arms and legs protested to the sudden effort.

Jim stayed on his side, obviously too weak to move. He just looked at McCoy with worry in his eyes.

“Bones, you…okay?”

Every movement became easier and Leonard thanked God that they seemed to have used a lower setting on him. Where he was able to move, Jim was still sidelined. Even more than an hour after the fact. He sat up too quickly, causing his head to swim. For just a moment, he felt as if he was about to vomit, but the sensation soon passed. Taking a deep cleansing breath, he scooted the rest of the way to the bars. He reached through and grabbed Kirk’s outstretched hand.

“That was horrid, kid. I’m so sorry they used it on you more than once.”

Kirk smiled weakly. “ ‘M just glad…they didn’t use the…” Jim sighed and closed his eyes mid-sentence. “…high setting.” He curled his fingers loosely around McCoy’s.

McCoy leaned heavily against the bars. “You’re somethin’ else, you know that? I mean, I saw that the old guy had it on ‘low’ and it still hurt like a son of a bitch. I don’t know how you managed to hang on.”

“You.”

“Come again?” McCoy leaned down closer to the floor so he could hear Jim’s quickly quieting voice better.

“I kept…thinking of you. I just wanted…to see you…again.”

McCoy couldn’t have been more in love with Kirk in that moment. Everything that they had been through, all the torture, blood, gunfights—cardiac arrests—it all seemed to fade away. For a quick moment, nothing else mattered except him and Jim. It didn’t matter where they were or if they were going to survive or not. They were together—right now—and Jim loved him.

“I love you, Jim.” He reached through the bars and guided Kirk closer to himself. Jim craned his neck awkwardly in order to allow his dry lips to connect with Leonard’s for an instant. Then, the younger man let his head fall back to the ground with a feeble moan.

“My head hurts, Bones. I’m…so tired.” He exhaled deeply, his fingers slipping from McCoy’s hand. “I feel like I…need to fall asleep for a while. But…I was waiting. T’make sure…you were…okay.”

“Go, darlin’. I promise I’ll be here when you wake up.”

_Jesus, I hope I’m telling the truth._

_Where the hell is Spock?_

“Love you…Bon…”

Jim fell unconscious before he could finish his sentence. McCoy lay down as close to the bars as he could get himself and reached through, carding his long fingers through Kirk’s short hair. As bad as he wanted to stay awake—to keep them safe—he couldn’t fight the exhaustion that threatened him.

His eyes closed, and he didn’t care that the floor was freezing cold.

 

XxX   XxX   XxX   XxX   XxX   XxX  

 

The resistance command center was a far cry from what the Starfleet officers had expected.

Located in the basement of a condemned factory, it was a perfect hideaway. No one dared go near the faltering structure, the walls close to caving in and the roof leaking and sagging at every corner. Even though the building above them was close to collapse in some areas, the cellar area was reinforced with steel beams, a remnant of the days when heavy machinery covered the floor above. With only two ways in or out, it was easily guarded and defended.

A perfect place to plan for Xentia’s future.

The headquarters was bustling, soldiers in various states of training, high-ranking members fluttering about counting their weapons stashes, organizing rations and planning for the onslaught that was—hopefully—only days from happening.

Unfortunately, the planning for the rescue of their Captain and Doctor was not going as well as they had originally hoped. The reinforcements around the citadel were heavy, and the prospect of getting in without significant bloodshed was getting smaller by the moment.

Mak’ai was beginning to have growing concerns about the goings on—or lack thereof—in the stronghold, not to mention the faltering rescue mission.

“Mister Spock, if I may have a word?”

The Vulcan looked up from his PADD. “Of course, Mak’ai.”

“I’m very concerned. Ka’al hasn’t paraded Captain Kirk or the Doctor around publically since their capture. And we haven’t heard any more from him about ransom.” She sat down across the table from him, making direct and purposeful eye contact. “He loves to make examples of victims, and the fact that there hasn’t been a single sighting of them is worrisome. I think we should make our move on the citadel.”

“Do you have new information? What are you basing your insistence on?”

“Well…no, but…”

“It would be illogical to move on the palace on just a hunch.”

Mak’ai stood her ground. “Hear me out. A few days ago I felt that Ka’al wouldn’t kill them. Now, that we haven’t seen even a glimpse or heard anything about them, I’m changing my view. I think they’re in great danger.” She clasped her hands together on the tabletop and looked at him with pleading eyes. “Please, we need to get them out of there.”

Spock tapped a few commands into his PADD. “The signal from the Captain’s transponder is still functioning. I have been monitoring him, and he is moving within the fortress. Whether it is on his own power or with assistance from others is unknown.”

“But there’s no way to tell if he’s alive?”

“Negative. The transmitter does not transmit vital signs, only location.” Spock stiffened in his seat. He knew Mak’ai made a valid point, but also knew that if they moved without being fully prepared, everyone—including the Captain and Doctor—could be lost.

Mak’ai scowled. “Then we need to go.”

“Our plan of attack is more than a day away from being ready to be executed. If we rush ourselves, we run the risk of endangering not only the Captain and Doctor, but the entire team as well.”

“I understand that, but you need to listen to me. We need to get into those tunnels tonight and break them out. I don’t know how much longer they have.”

Spock set his tablet down on the table. “Making a move on the stronghold without being properly prepared is highly illogical. It would be very unwise to risk the safety of the Captain and Doctor, as well as that of the extraction team. We are making strides with our plan of attack, but are not ready to implement it at this time.”

_She does not understand._

_We cannot risk the lives of countless innocents._

_Nyota would be very useful right now._

“I don’t believe this! I’m familiar with Ka’al and his tactics, you aren’t! What’s illogical is you, Mister Spock!” Her voice was raised, and every head in the vicinity turned at the ruckus. “We’re waiting around while he’s torturing them! Every minute that we waste sitting here planning is time they don’t have!”

Unfazed by Mak’ai’s temper, Spock replied calmly. “I understand that you are concerned for their well-being. However, if we make a move before our mission parameters are fine-tuned, the entire operation could be in jeopardy. Logic dictates that we ensure beforehand that we are prepared in all arenas before beginning.”

“We don’t have time! Why can’t you see that?” Mak’ai stood abruptly, knocking her chair backwards. “Don’t you care about either of them?”

_Of course I do._

_But I must not become emotionally distracted by the situation._

_If I falter, lives could be at stake._

_And I do not want to carry that burden._

Spock squared his shoulders. “It is my duty to look at all options before making a decision. A hasty choice would only prove to make the mission that much more difficult. And to answer your question, yes, I do care about the welfare of both our officers. They are both close confidants and I consider them my friends.” He paused for a moment.

“But we must also remember that Captain Kirk made the decision to surrender on his own. He knew the risks.” Spock stood, matching her. “And, as acting commander in the Captain’s absence, it is also my responsibility to make the sagest assessment of the situation and act accordingly. That said, I feel it is premature to attempt a rescue, even if it makes me seem like I do not care about them. I assure you that is most certainly not the case. Your warriors are not completely trained on our weapons or tactics, we have not finished the stun modifications to your existing guns and our plan of attack is still far from perfected.”

Mak’ai stomped her foot. “This is ludicrous! I know Captain Kirk made his choice, but it doesn’t mean we have to stand idly by and wait for him to be executed. You are making a mistake, Mister Spock. And I hope that Doctor McCoy and the Captain don’t pay for it with their lives.”

She stormed away, leaving Spock in her heated wake. He watched her silently for a moment before she disappeared into a side room, slamming the door shut behind her. All the heads that had turned at the commotion went back to their original tasks, and he sat once again, trying to immerse himself in his work. Her words had stung, as she meant them to do. Spock understood that she was angry and frustrated—as were the rest of the team. He had always felt uncomfortable around humans and other species when they reacted in such emotional ways, and had been working with Uhura to react better. He was aware that he often had an off-putting response to emotional outbursts, usually one that seemed uncaring or uninterested. At least with Kirk, the young Captain usually made some sort of remark to diffuse an uncomfortable situation. But with Jim incarcerated and most likely in danger, there was no one to step in and assist.

Spock knew that Mak’ai was unfamiliar with Vulcans and their logic-rather-than-emotion way of thinking. Taking that into consideration, he had tried his best to have a productive conversation with her, even in her seemingly emotionally irrational state. In a way, she reminded him of Kirk. He had believed he had handled the situation as best he could with her reactions taken into consideration.

That being said, he also believed that she did have a valid point. He knew he was risking the lives of his friends with each passing moment, but the mission would have a much higher success rate if they were adequately prepared.

Which, at the present time, they were not.

He hoped he was making the right decision.

_Vulcans do not doubt themselves._

_Your human side is showing._

_Mother…_

_…would be proud._

_I am…_

_…nervous._

He picked up his PADD once again and continued with his work.

 

 


	11. Chapter Eleven

Shot in the Dark: Chapter Eleven

                Jim was relieved to not see the machine, but it didn’t make him any less nervous.

He had been brought into the small room he had become very familiar with in the early morning. McCoy had watched in silence as the guards picked him up from the floor, Jim wincing at the pain that shot through his body as he moved. He was still reeling from the previous day’s torture—his muscles protesting every movement, his brain not quite making all its connections.

He and McCoy had both slept fitfully the night before, curling as close to one another as they could with bars separating them. The Doctor had lovingly stroked his fingers through his hair as they rested, a small gesture meant to comfort when the situation seemed so dire. They hadn’t said much, a few mumbled “I love you’s” and exhausted words in an attempt to keep some semblance of normality. Although it was hard to find comfort in any loving phrase when you were lying on a moldering floor, chilled to the bone as the damp surroundings slowly soaked into every fiber of their quickly tattering clothes.

And now here he was, back in that room. Away from the one thing that had kept any impression of sanity and comfort with him.

He missed Bones.

He wanted to go home.

“Tazan has informed me that I need to ‘take a break’ with his wonderfully entertaining machine. He says your feeble human brain can’t withstand much more.” Ka’al shook his head. “It’s a pity, too, because I was really enjoying watching you suffer. I had almost forgotten about the Starfleet information I was trying to get out of you. _Almost._ ”

“Well, you’re running out of time to ask nicely.” Kirk forced a sly smile, wincing as his split lip opened again.

“Ask nicely? Well, why didn’t I think of that sooner?” Ka’al leaned in closer to Jim, sarcasm lacing his tone. “Captain Kirk, would you _please_ tell me about the Federation’s defenses?”

“Nope.” Kirk stared him down. Though he wasn’t about to give Ka’al any indication of his growing fear and internal struggle to keep himself quiet, he knew he had crossed the point of no return. The warrior was going to be pissed at his defiance. So, when the strike Jim anticipated never came, he was shocked.

“You disappoint me, James. And here I thought we were starting to get a better rapport with one another.” Ka’al sighed. “Oh well, I guess I’m going to have to resort to old-fashioned techniques today.” He punched Jim in the stomach.

Jim couldn’t help himself, and immediately responded with bravado. “You know, for all the talk about being a ‘feared leader’, you sure do hit awfully weak. Kind of like a little sister.”

Ka’al’s fist slammed into Jim’s temple. He saw stars for a few seconds as concussion of the impact slowly wore off. He was hardly aware that Ka’al had grabbed his arm and pushed his sleeve up. Kirk looked down just in time to see the blade slice into the soft flesh of his forearm.

“For every second that you keep information from me, I shall draw this knife further down your arm. I have learned enough about human physiology to know that if I should cut into the vein at your wrist, you will more than likely bleed to death.”

Jim held his breath and locked eyes with Ka’al.

_He wouldn’t kill me._

_He’s bluffing._

_I can take this kind of torture any day over that machine._

The razor-edge continued its trek downward, inching ever closer to his wrist. Ka’al met resistance from Jim’s skin and had to abruptly yank the blade, causing the Captain to recoil, digging his heels into the floor. A split second later, Jim’s boot heel had popped off, the tiny transponder clattering to the floor.

_Oh shit._

One of the guards picked it up and grumbled something in his native language.

Ka’al immediately flew into blinding rage.

He cast the blade aside and shook Jim forcefully. “You’ve been transmitting a signal this entire time! You purposely surrendered, didn’t you? To get closer to me? _Where are your men_?” He grabbed the cuff keys from the hands of one of his goons and released the manacles.

In one fluid motion, he lifted Jim from the chair and slammed him against the side wall of the torture chamber. Kirk grunted as the force of the impact pushed all the air from his lungs. Ka’al butted his head into Jim’s chin, snapping the back of his skull backwards against the bricks. He continued to smash him into the stones, over and over again. Jim could feel his spine tingling with each movement. With the last collision of his head on the wall, Jim heard—and felt—a crack. Instantly, his vision went white, a searing pain erupting from the back of his skull.

“I should have killed the moment you surrendered!” Ka’al threw him into the corner, Jim slumping onto the floor with a pained groan. “You _will_ _not_ leave this prison alive!”

Jim tried to move out of the way of the oncoming threat, but Ka’al was too quick—and the young Captain too overtaken by the waves of pain washing over his tired and bruised body.

Ka’al wrapped his hands around Jim’s neck and lifted him high into the air, squeezing until Kirk could no longer breathe. His face turned beet red, eyes bulging as what little oxygen was left in his lungs was forced out through bleeding nostrils.

Jim could feel his lungs burning. He clawed at Ka’al’s hands around his neck, his fingernails doing nothing more than scrape against the thick scales. The warrior laughed.

“You can’t hurt me, Captain Kirk!” He pierced the soft skin of Jim’s throat with his claws, droplets of blood dripping down his fingers.

Jim gurgled helplessly, his eyes beginning to roll back into their sockets. He willed himself to stay lucid—to fight for his life. Finding strength he thought was gone, Kirk furiously kicked his feet. Luck was on his side as one of boots found Ka’al’s groin. The tyrant immediately released Jim and doubled over. The young Captain dropped to the floor, wheezing and choking on blood.

_Looks like we share a common physical trait after all…_

Ka’al was not sidelined long, shaking off his injury in mere moments. Before he could right himself, Jim was once again being pummeled. Every inch of his body was in agony as punches were landed left and right, from head to toe. It seemed there was not one place on his battered body that Ka’al was willing to ignore. Blood cascaded from his mouth and nose as he tried to shield his face from the onslaught.

Ka’al wasn’t having any of it. “Don’t think you can protect yourself, James! I want you to get up and fight me! You should at least die with some honor.”

Kirk struggled to get his bearings as his brain attempted to recover from the previous lack of oxygen and the current round of punches. He could feel his hands and feet prickling, surely an effect of the beating his spine had taken seconds earlier. He was shocked when Ka’al actually seemed to dial back his attack—as if he were allowing him to recuperate briefly.

Jim realized that he didn’t have a choice. Ka’al was going to kill him whether he retaliated or not—so he might as well go down swinging. He eyed the giant as he strained to get to his knees, his vision cloudy. His hands shook as he pressed them against the floor, trying to push himself up into a standing position. Bracing his palms on his knees, he finally stood semi-erect, cradling his left hand over his aching right flank. Blood dripped from the fresh wound in his arm.

“You want me to fight?” Kirk moved towards him, only to stop short as a surge of white-hot pain coursed through his pelvis. He took a second to catch his breath and steady himself before continuing. “You don’t know what you’re in for, lizard-lips!”

_What the hell are you doing?_

_Taunting him?_

_You’re an idiot._

_Bones is gonna kill you…_

Ka’al laughed heartily. “Your petty insults are quite amusing, Kirk. It’s a pity we didn’t meet under better circumstances...you would have made an excellent verbal sparring partner.” He flashed forward and rammed his shoulder into Jim’s sternum, knocking the younger man backwards into the wall.

Jim held steady, not letting himself fall. He pushed himself off from the bricks and immediately struck back, charging at the warrior with all his might—which was rapidly draining from his body, along with a significant amount of his blood. He knew he couldn’t hold out much longer. As he barreled into Ka’al, his mind suddenly went off track.

He thought of Bones.

_You’ve got to take Ka’al down._

_Right here._

_Don’t give up._

_If you falter…you both die._

Gritting his teeth and growling almost inhumanly, began to throw a flurry of punches aimed at Ka’al’s torso, trying every once and a while to get a hit on the soft part of his throat, where the scales were absent. He figured because it wasn’t heavily armored, he’d have a better chance of inflicting better damage.

Jim was surprised when Ka’al seemed to stand there and take the barrage.

He was even more surprised at the feeling of his feet leaving the ground, his body being tipped to the side. He had encountered this situation before, when the warmonger had paraded him around the city square at the moment of his surrender.

_This is going to hurt._

As his body slammed against the stone floor, Jim felt the telltale crack of ribs fracturing within his chest. He was no stranger to broken ribs, and knew exactly what they felt like. What he wasn’t ready for was an intense sharp pain accompanying the break. An instant later, he was greeted with the tang of fresh blood in his throat and he coughed, expelling the liquid from his lips. His chest felt full, and each breath burned.

Not in control of his body any more, Jim collapsed and rolled onto his side. Every breath he took sent unfathomable anguish through his torso, and he was having trouble focusing on anything else but the pain. He was almost unaware that Ka’al had rushed towards him, and now hovered inches above his failing body.

“You pitiful mongrel! You can’t even fight for more than a few minutes!” Ka’al grabbed him by the arm and flipped him, dislocating the joint with his sheer brute strength. Jim screamed as agony overtook him. “And to think Starfleet thought sending you would help relations with the former leaders. Fools…”

Kirk’s vision was fogged—by both pain and fear—and he could barely discern the outline of a serrated blade being raised above him. Gasping for air and gagging on his own blood, he tried as hard as he could to wriggle out of the way.

Ka’al cried out in his native language powerfully as the knife came slamming down, piercing Jim’s chest just below his heart.

All the air was pushed out of Kirk’s lungs as the blade tore through his flesh, and he could feel the invading metal scraping against his ribs as it settled in his chest cavity. He tried to cry out, but found that his voice had left him. Nothing but a spurt of blood erupted from his mouth, splattering on Ka’al’s forearms. Jim’s eyes bulged with the pain, although he couldn’t see more than a few inches in front of his face.

_Oh, God._

_I’m sorry…_

_…Bones._

Ka’al plucked the blade from Jim’s torso, the barbs lining the edges of the knife tearing the already damaged tissue as it moved. Once again, Jim was unable to find the means to scream, his larynx feeling as if it was being removed along with the weapon. All he could do was shake—whether it was shock or fear—and lay there as his lifeblood spilled out onto the dusty floor. Kirk’s eyes began to flutter shut, Ka’al looming over him.

Waiting for him to die.

 

XxX   XxX   XxX   XxX   XxX   XxX  

 

McCoy could hear the blood splattering to the floor before he could see it, and knew Jim was in serious trouble. The telltale sound of what medical professionals called a “sucking chest wound” echoed off the walls. The horrid gasp of a man whose lung had collapsed, every breath pulling outside air into the chest cavity through a hole, putting pressure on the heart and other organs. He couldn’t help but panic, knowing that the injuries Jim must have sustained would be virtually untreatable in this dirty prison.

Ka’al’s booming voice reverberated down the hall, mocking him and his dying partner. “McCoy! I’ve brought you a gift!”

The door to Jim’s cell slid open and Ka’al himself threw Kirk in, the young Captain falling to the floor in a limp tangle of limbs, struggling to draw each breath. McCoy flew to the bars, trying to diagnose Jim from across the room. He flew into doctor mode, stomping his panicked feelings to the soles of his feet. He knew he had to stay focused if he wanted to help Jim.

If he even could.

Ka’al stood over Jim’s prone form, toeing his chin upwards with his boot. Kirk never opened his eyes. His mouth gaped as he tried to bring air into his body, blood spurting from his lips with each jerk of his chest. McCoy took note of Kirk’s right arm, twisted at an awkward angle.

Ka’al stepped over Jim and approached the bars. He pointed back towards Kirk as he addressed the frightened doctor. “Look what I’ve done to your lover! Reduced him to a bloody heap!” Kirk moaned behind him, and the tyrant laughed loudly.

“You have to let me in there to help him!” McCoy tightened his grip on the bars, his knuckles turning white. He gazed past Ka’al, eyes resting on Jim. Even in the dim light, he could tell Kirk’s skin tone was beginning to take on a gray pallor. He was losing too much blood.

“And have you miss the main event?” Ka’al came close to the bars and before Leonard could move back, had wrapped his own hands around that of the Doctor. He squeezed tightly, trapping McCoy. “Oh no, Doctor. You will stand right here and watch as he takes his last agonizing breath. I want you to witness the death of James T. Kirk, knowing that you’ll be next…and that you did nothing to save him.”

_Oh, Jesus._

_He’s going to let Jim die right here._

_I’ve got to convince him otherwise._

_I can’t…_

_…let this happen…_

It was all or nothing. This was his last chance to save Jim. If he failed, Kirk would die.

And Leonard would have nothing left to live for.

“You’re insane, you know that?” McCoy stiffened his posture and squared his shoulders. He tried to make himself seem as big as possible. Maybe, he thought, if he showed bravado, Ka’al would even respect him a little.

_Yeah, right._

_This isn’t going to work…_

“If he dies, your bargaining chip with the Federation is gone and they’ll obliterate you.”

Ka’al stood silently, staring him down. The only sound in the chamber was Jim’s pitiful groaning, and his desperate breaths.

_Did it work?_

_Please, God…_

“You know I’m right! Think about it! Are you really willing to let him die, just because he didn’t play your game?” McCoy’s hands shook, and he willed his voice not to falter. If he showed weakness, Jim would die and he would most definitely be next. “Don’t be a fool…”

Ka’al blew a sharp puff of air from his nostrils. He narrowed his eyes at the Doctor and leaned in close, his breath permeating the space between them, but said nothing. A few seconds later he turned heel and stormed out of the cell. He hissed a stern command in Xentian to the guard as he left, his other two soldiers following closely behind.

McCoy watched with apprehension, his focus flitting back and forth between the guard outside and Jim. He didn’t know what the hell Ka’al had said, and could only hope that he would be allowed to help Kirk. The remaining warrior slowly approached McCoy’s door and pulled his keys from his belt.

“Come here…human!” He commanded the Doctor in surprisingly good Standard, disdain in his voice as he uttered the last word. McCoy thought for a moment that he might just have an education. “Put your hands up.”

Leonard was absolutely willing to play along. He raised his hands high above his head in submission and watched as the guard carefully unlocked the door. He stole a quick glance back at Jim, writhing on the floor. He knew he needed to get to him fast.

“Move out slowly.” McCoy obeyed, and as soon as he was outside the guard grabbed him forcefully by the arm and yanked him towards Jim’s cell. “Stay still.”

As soon as Jim’s door was unlocked, the soldier pushed McCoy in, slamming the gate shut behind him. He immediately ran to Kirk’s side. So long he had waited to hold Kirk in his arms, to pull him close and kiss him like there was no tomorrow.

But Jim didn’t even acknowledge his presence.

_Can’t just yet._

_You’re too badly injured._

“Jim? Darlin’?” McCoy rubbed his thumb over Jim’s forehead as he scrutinized his battered body. There was definitely a chest wound, jagged and oozing blood. He leaned in closer and could hear air being drawn into the hole as Jim tried to breathe. Leonard scowled as he realized his initial diagnosis had been correct.

_Tension Pneumothorax._

_His chest is filling with air._

_His lung’s been hit._

Moving swiftly but gently, McCoy removed Jim’s shirt and balled it up, resting the young Captain’s head on the makeshift pillow. Kirk’s torso was stained with bright red blood. Another warning sign—it was freshly oxygenated. That blood was supposed to be going to his brain, not bubbling out of a hole in his chest. He leaned over and laid his ear to the exposed skin just below Kirk’s left nipple, listening for breath sounds. He scowled when they were almost non-existent.

_Lung’s collapsed._

_I just want to scream._

_Why does this always happen?_

_Oh yeah, ‘cause you’re Jim Kirk._

He quickly took inventory of the other maladies that Kirk was suffering from. McCoy palpated Jim’s chest and abdomen, counting the broken ribs as he moved lower. He was relieved to find Kirk’s belly soft, no signs of internal bleeding there. His right shoulder had been dislocated, but McCoy placed that at the very bottom of the priority list. There was a shallow cut on Jim’s left forearm, oozing but not anywhere near life-threatening. He gently pried open both of Jim’s eyes, and even in the dark could tell that his pupils were sluggish and dilating unevenly. He knew that another concussion was a real possibility, and when he turned Kirk’s head to the side and found blood soaking his hair at the base, the probability of skull fracture became a grim reality. Jim’s right eye was blackened, and a quick press on his cheekbone told Leonard that he had an orbital fracture. Kirk flinched slightly at the pressure, grimacing with a low moan.

“Sorry, Jim.” McCoy leaned over and comforted him with a light kiss on the cheek he had just pushed on. “I’ve got to check you out. Almost done, okay?”

Kirk nodded feebly, opening his eyes for the first time since he had been thrown into the cell. His breathing was causing him obvious discomfort, as each breath he took was accompanied by a pained groan. He tried to move his right arm over to cradle the wound on his left side, but the damaged limb wouldn’t move more than a few inches. He cried out loudly as the joint protested the movement.

Leonard laid his hands on Jim’s injured shoulder. “It’s dislocated. Don’t move it around. I’ll fix it later, I promise.”

“Jus’…like at…t’cademy…”

McCoy looked back to Jim’s face just in time to see Kirk crack a sly smile. He knew, even in a pain-induced fog, that Jim thought mentioning all those late-night triage sessions would get under the Doctor’s skin.

_I must have re-set your goddamn shoulders at least six times in three years._

_Stupid idiot._

“Stop talking, dammit. You need to save all your oxygen.”

Jim’s eyes closed lethargically as he nodded his compliance. His chest shuddered with each breath, droplets of blood spluttering onto his lips as he struggled.

Kirk’s injuries couldn’t wait, and Leonard knew he would have to treat him in the awful conditions that they found themselves in. But he couldn’t do it with his bare hands. He would need supplies.

He needed his Med Kit.

He eyed the medical case on the table near the wall. And the phaser next to it. There was no way the man would give him back his weapon, but Leonard hoped he would relent and allow him to have the only thing that could bring Jim back from the brink.

“Hey! I need that box on the table.” McCoy pointed through the bars. The guard glared at him and turned away. The Doctor was nothing if not determined. “Dammit, look at me! I need your help!”

“I’m not helping you or your filthy Captain.”

McCoy wasn’t backing down. He was going to get that Med Kit if he had to rip the door off of the hinges with his bare hands. “Listen to me! He’s gonna die right here on the floor if you don’t help me. And I don’t think Ka’al would like it very much if his prize perished on your watch.”

The guard thought for a moment, moving to the table and clicking his claws on the medical case. Every second that passed seemed like an hour. McCoy looked back at Jim and prayed that the soldier would assist him.

As the moments ticked by, his hope waned and McCoy was faced with the real possibility that Kirk would die in his arms, his Med Kit just feet from him, sitting idle. So, when the warrior grabbed the supplies and moved towards the door, he was nothing if not surprised.

McCoy scurried back to Jim’s side and tried to soothe him. “Darlin’, I’m going to help you now. But, I need to sedate you so I can work.” He caressed Kirk’s ear with his fingers. “Let me give you some meds so you won’t feel anything.”

Kirk blinked lethargically and mustered a faint smile, bloodstained teeth peeking out from behind cracked lips. “O-okay…Bones…”

Leonard kissed his fingertips and pressed them against Jim’s mouth before he turned to the guard. “Bring that lantern in here with you so I can see.”

The soldier obeyed, setting the lamp down close to Jim’s head. He handed the Kit to the Doctor, who quickly located a hypo filled with sedatives. He pressed the hypospray against Kirk’s bloody skin and depressed the trigger, sending the powerful medication into the young Captain’s veins. Within seconds Jim’s eyes fluttered partially shut, pulling him deep into unconsciousness. Leonard reached over his face and drew his hand over Kirk’s eyes, closing them completely. He hoped it wasn’t the last time he ever saw the brilliant blue.

The guard sat silently, watching McCoy’s every move. He kept one hand planted firmly on the sidearm attached to his belt.

Leonard ran a Tricorder down Jim’s torso, scowling at the information it was sending back. The wound—more than likely from a knife, a serrated one from the looks of the jagged flesh it left behind in its wake—had indeed punctured Kirk’s lung. Without a proper full-body scan, he couldn’t tell just how substantial the damage was, but from the sound of Kirk’s labored breathing and the amount of blood that was spilling onto the floor, McCoy was willing to bet that Jim didn’t have much time left.

If the blood loss didn’t kill him, the lack of oxygen to the brain would. With each struggling breath Jim took, Leonard watched the screen on the Tricorder. Kirk’s blood oxygen levels were dropping quickly. He knew he needed to repair the hole if Jim had any chance of survival.

And that would mean opening Jim’s chest right there in the middle of the prison.

McCoy laid the Tricorder on the floor—pointed at Jim so it could continually scan his vitals—and grabbed for the laser scalpel. Twisting it nervously in his hands for a quick moment, his mind flashed back to Mak’ai’s house—and the horrors that he put Jim through the last time they had been on this planet. He was thankful that it wouldn’t be duplicated tonight.

He hoped.

The Doctor looked down at Jim, unconscious and pain-free. Even though his breathing was choppy, Leonard knew Kirk would feel absolutely nothing.

“Alright, listen. I’m going to use this scalpel to cut into his chest.” McCoy switched the device on and began the warm-up cycle. “It’s gonna be bloody…”

The guard seemed unfazed by the warning. “Why must you do this?”

McCoy was shocked. He never expected the hulk to take an interest in what he was doing. Maybe he wasn’t such a dumb brute after all. The Doctor decided to humor him and walk him through the procedures. After all, he was going to need the guy’s help in a few moments. Might as well make him feel like he was part of the team.

_Team?_

_It’s just me._

_Why can’t I be in Sick Bay right now with all my wonderful “Jim Saving Devices?”_

_Damn you, kid._

_Don’t quit on me._

“There’s air and blood in his chest cavity. His lung has been ruptured by whatever Ka’al stabbed him with. If I don’t get in there and fix the hole, he won’t be able to breathe much longer.” Jim’s chest shuddered with each breath he took, tiny bubbles appearing in the blood coming out of the entrance wound on his flank. McCoy tapped lightly on the area. “See that? Not supposed to be happenin’. The pressure inside his chest is turning that hole into a one-way valve. Air gets sucked in, but can’t get out and it’s retarding his ability to breathe. And that’s what you’re going to help me fix.”

“And you have the proper supplies in that tiny case?” He seemed skeptical.

“Not really, but I’ll have to make do.” McCoy rooted around for a hand-held sterilizer. Finding it, he wasn’t the least bit surprised when it didn’t have a sufficient battery charge.

_Of course._

_Why would it work?_

_I’m going to raise hell with the nurses when we get back to the ship._

McCoy didn’t want to perform the already risky procedure with dirty hands. He growled and tossed the device aside. He ran through sterilization procedures in his head, looking for the best solution. He smiled when he remembered his grandmother’s cure-all for everything from infections to the flu.

“Do you have any alcohol? The stronger the better.” McCoy stole a glance at the Tricorder, constantly updating itself every few seconds with Jim’s vitals. His blood oxygen levels were nearing critical.

The guard laughed heartily. “Drunken medicine? I don’t think your Captain would agree with your methods!”

“It’s not for me, dammit! I need something to cleanse the work area and my sterilizer’s dead.”

_Boy, how I wouldn’t kill for a drink right about now, though._

The guard nodded silently and reached into his jacket, producing a small metallic flask. He handed it to McCoy. “My family’s house brew, _Mril’a’deen._ As our people would say, ‘It will burn the scales off your face.’”

The Doctor accepted the vessel and screwed the cap off. A malty smell immediately permeated his nostrils, and it was evident by the intense aroma that the guard was being very truthful about the potency. He splashed some over his hands and Jim’s flank.

_Better than nothing._

“Hold out your hands.” The soldier cocked his head and looked at him quizzically. “Well, c’mon now! He doesn’t have all day! I’m going to need an extra set of hands, and those paws don’t look too clean, Son.”

The warrior hesitated for a moment before presenting his hands to McCoy. Leonard spilled some of the clear liquid over his claws. “Rub ‘em together. Get under your nails.”

When both sets of hands were adequately disinfected and Jim deep under anesthesia, McCoy took a deep breath and started.

_Here we go._

_You promised I wouldn’t have to do anything like this again._

McCoy stretched Jim’s left arm all the way out to the side. Starting at his armpit, he felt along Kirk’s ribs, counting them in order to locate the “safe triangle” between the pectoral and latissimus muscles. He hadn’t performed a manual decompression since med school, but remembered enough that he needed to find the space between the muscles and ribs to allow for safe placement of the laser beam. Ideally, he would have done it with a large-gauge needle, but he had to work with what was available.

Which wasn’t much.

Pinpointing the desired area, he thumped his fingertips twice on the Jim’s upper torso, listening for the telltale sign of an air-filled chest. Even though the Tricorder—and Jim’s labored breathing—both said the pneumothorax was there, he felt he owed it to Kirk to make damn sure he was right before he drilled into his chest. The sound of the percussion Jim’s chest was hyperresonant, like the sound of a drum—where it should have been low-pitched and hollow sounding, had his pleural space not been filled with air.

McCoy had all the information he needed. The injury was most definitely there, and needed to be fixed promptly. Keeping one finger on the area he had isolated for treatment, he grabbed the laser scalpel with his free hand. He took a quick glance up at Jim’s face, mouth hanging open as his body tried to breathe, despite his deep unconsciousness.

_I’m gonna fix you up, darlin’._

_I promise._

_Just hang on a little longer for me._

He pointed the glowing end of the device at Kirk’s chest and activated it. The thin blue beam pierced Jim’s flesh with ease. Tiny puffs of smoke wafted up from the new opening as Kirk’s skin cauterized around the laser.

“Could you move the lantern closer?” McCoy never looked at the guard, keeping his eyes trained on the procedure site. As the soldier moved the light, Jim’s flank was illuminated more, revealing a gruesome sight. Blood leaked from the original stab wound, the skin around the new one was turning a deep shade of maroon as it essentially burned. The Doctor leaned in close, listening intently for any change in Jim’s breath sounds. He intensified the strength of the beam, holding the Tricorder just inches above Kirk’s chest to make sure he wasn’t getting close to his heart.

_Because that would just be my luck._

Several seconds later, he switched it off, was rewarded with a long hiss of air. The Captain’s breathing immediately calmed. McCoy laid his ear to Jim’s chest once more and breathed a tentative sigh of relief when he could hear the beginnings of normal breath sounds as the damaged lung tried to recover. If he had played his cards right—and luck was on their side—Jim’s lung would begin to fill again on its own since the pressure in his chest was now relieved.

Now all he had to do was patch the hole in the lung.

And he knew that meant digging into his best friend’s—his love’s—chest with his bare hands.

“One down, one to go.” He pressed his fingers against the large vein in Jim’s neck, just to reassure himself that Kirk was still hanging on. He could have looked at the Tricorder screen, but sometimes he really needed tangible reassurance that Jim’s heart was still ticking. Because nothing was ever that easy when Jim Kirk was involved.

McCoy then splashed more of the alien booze on his hands before touching the wound Ka’al had made. He gently pried the edges apart slightly, trying to ascertain whether or not he would be able to work without making the hole bigger. He scowled as he realized he was going to have to expand it. There was barely enough room for his fingertips, let alone a regenerator.

“Sorry, darlin’,” He mumbled softly under his breath as he drew the scalpel through the existing wound, enlarging it to twice its original size.

“What did you say?”

“Nothin’. Just be ready.” McCoy concentrated as he moved the instrument laterally along Jim’s ribcage.

“Aren’t you going to close the previous hole?” The guard moved closer, to get a better look.

“Not yet. There’s still going to be air in there until I repair his lung. It’s got to have somewhere to go, and that little bastard hole is the trap door out.”

Satisfied that the opening was now sufficient, wasted no time with burrowing his fingertips into Jim’s chest cavity. He had to use a small bit of force to push the ribs out of the way, but thankfully, they were already broken and gave with ease. Working by feel alone, he ran his fingers over the tissue and muscles, feeling Jim’s heartbeat pulse through the hundreds of blood vessels. He grunted his frustration as his hands slipped around in the viscera of Jim’s torso.

_What I wouldn’t give for a retractor right now._

_I can’t see a damn thing._

“Hey, I need your help.” He removed his hand, bloody and warm, from Jim’s chest and grabbed that of the guard. “Use your claws to pull apart this wound. I need to be able to see better. Careful not to knick a vein.”

The warrior hesitated for a moment. But McCoy wasn’t having any of it and tugged on his hands, directing him to the exact area where he needed assistance.

“Don’t worry; he’s tougher than he looks right now. Just be gentle.” The Doctor laid his own hands on top of the soldier’s and guided his claws into the wound, showing him just how much pull to use.

“I am not worried…for either of you.”

But McCoy could see the apprehension in his eyes, the way they darted back and forth between the work area and Jim’s head every time the Captain’s chest shuddered as he breathed. If he didn’t know any better, Leonard almost might have thought he was connecting with him.

“Perfect, just like that. Now hold steady.” McCoy licked his lips in anticipation as he once again delved his fingers into Jim’s body. With the wound stretched, he had a much easier time moving ribs and locating the hole in Kirk’s lung. He placed the small regenerator against the wound and watched as the area was bathed in a pale blue light. The timer activated instantly.

Now all they could do was wait.

“So, you got a name?”

“Why do you care?” The guard snorted at him, but never moved his hands.

“It’s called ‘small talk.’ We’ve got three minutes on this regenerator.” He sighed deeply, wishing his hands were free to run through Jim’s hair—not embedded in his chest.

The soldier was silent for a long moment before responding with a huff. “Kogas.”

McCoy offered a small smile in the dim light. “Leonard McCoy. Nice to meet you. I’d shake your hand, but, well…” He motioned his head in the direction of their handiwork.

Kogas leaned over and peered into the hole, marveling at the technology. McCoy couldn’t help but notice the interest he was taking in Jim’s treatment. If he could make a meaningful connection with him—make him care about Jim—maybe they had a chance of getting out alive.

“You know, this type of tech could really help your people. Ka’al is keeping valuable devices like this from you. He’s holding your scientists back.” He checked the time left on the regen cycle. Two minutes.

_Maybe if I can get through to him, I can get an ally in this dump._

_It’s worth a shot, right?_

_What do we have to lose?_

The guard grunted and said nothing.

“You don’t have to follow Ka’al. You could do anything you want with your life, even become a doctor. I can tell that you’re not the average goon he has running around here…you’re too smart for this.”

The man hesitated, and for a split second, McCoy swore he saw his demeanor change.

“It is…too late for me.” Kogas exhaled deeply. “I made my choices as a younger man, and I must stand by them.”

“No you don’t! It’s never too late to change your mind.” The regenerator beeped from within Kirk’s chest, signaling the last thirty seconds of the cycle. “Listen to me. Ka’al isn’t going to be in power forever. You can make a difference. You’ve already showed me that you care way more than you let on.”

Kogas shook his head. “If it were only that easy, Doctor McCoy.”

_But it is._

_Help with the rebellion._

_Jesus, what I am thinking?_

_I can’t even keep us out of trouble…_

The regenerator chirped and McCoy withdrew it. He looked over the newly-healed tissue. It wasn’t the best patch job, but at least Jim’s lung seemed to immediately pink up and inflate. Starfleet’s technology never ceased to amaze him.

“You can move your hands now. I’ve got to close the wound.” McCoy grabbed a larger regenerator from the Med Kit. Kogas removed his claws and wiped them on his pants. The Doctor set the device carefully against the incision and activated it. He then sat back on his knees and rocked his neck back and forth, letting out a massive sigh. “Thanks for all your help.”

“You are welc—“A noise at the end of the hallway signaled the shift change. Kogas jumped to his feet and hastily opened the cell door. He moved through and closed it behind him. He took a quick moment to peer down the corridor, where the replacement guard was checking the cells before she made her way to them. Kogas turned back in McCoy’s direction, his voice hushed. “Do not speak of this to anyone. I will make sure you get some water to clean up with. I will see to it that you are allowed to work without _interruptions._ ”

McCoy spotted the flask next to the Med Kit. He grabbed it and held it out in Kogas’ direction. “You forgot something.”

An almost unnoticeable smile crossed the warrior’s lips. “Keep it.”

McCoy acknowledged his thanks with a smile of his own. “Think about what we talked about. You still have a chance to do good, Kogas.”

The guard nodded solemnly and went to meet his relief. McCoy could hear their voices, hissing in Xentian. The tone of the female guard, even in an alien language, was condescending and hostile. Kogas immediately raised his own voice over hers, and whatever he said seemed to do the trick—for she quieted. She approached the cell door, puffed air out of her nostrils in their direction, then took a seat in the empty chair against the wall.

McCoy turned his attention back to Jim and continued his work.

But not before leaning in and softly kissing Kirk’s bloodied lips.

And he couldn’t care less who saw it.

 

XxX   XxX   XxX   XxX   XxX   XxX  

 

McCoy sat back against the cool wall of the cell and sighed deeply.

It had taken him almost two hours to tend to Jim’s other injuries and administer the lone antibiotic hypospray he had, and he was finally satisfied that everything had been taken care of. The Captain lay on the floor, peacefully unaware of what he had just been subjected to. And for that, Leonard was thankful.

Setting Kirk’s dislocated shoulder had proved harder than it had ever been in the past. It had taken him four tries, not his proudest medical achievement ever. He didn’t know if it was the adverse conditions, sheer exhaustion or a little bit of both that affected him. Whatever it was, at least Jim hadn’t felt any of it.

As he sat quietly watching Jim, his mind wandered. Ever since he had been exposed to Tazan’s machine, his medical curiosity had been running rampant. Under other circumstances, he would have loved to have been given the opportunity to study the device, maybe to even use it for its original intended purpose.

Now, all he cared about was figuring out what it had potentially done to both Jim and his own brains. Both times Kirk had come back after exposure, he had been incoherent and in pain. The second time he had been in the throes of a seizure. Any machine that had the power to short-circuit someone’s neuro functions like that had to have more serious—and more than likely unseen—side effects.

McCoy remembered how it had felt to be released from the power of the device—the searing pain in his head, nausea and confusion. He knew that Tazan had used a more powerful setting for Jim, and that what he had felt had to have been absolutely terrifying to him.

He felt fine mentally, but he wasn’t sure he could say the same for Jim. With each successive session, Jim had been exponentially worse with his symptoms. He shuddered at the thought of them using it again. He wasn’t sure Jim could survive it.

He didn’t have any more time to ruminate on his thoughts. The sound of Jim moving grabbed his attention and he immediately scooted to his side, taking Kirk’s cold hand in his own.

“Jim?” He rubbed his thumb gently across Kirk’s knuckles. “Listen, don’t move too much. Your shoulder’s still gonna be sore for a while.”

Jim groaned as he tried to open his eyes. McCoy gently pulled his upper body into his lap, cradling Jim’s shoulders. Kirk shifted, trying to find a comfortable position before settling back into Leonard’s arms. He sighed and cracked his eyes open.

And all hell broke loose.

“Get away from me!”

Jim pushed himself off of McCoy’s lap and scrambled away from him. He winced as his body rolled on the cobblestones, his bare skin scraping against the rough surface.

McCoy could see the terror in his eyes. He moved towards him, and Jim immediately recoiled into the corner. The Doctor stopped in his tracks and desperately tried to think of what to do next.

“Jim, darlin’...calm down, alright?” He held his hands up in a submissive gesture. Leonard eyed the newly healed puffy pink scar on Jim’s ribcage. Even though it was closed, if Jim aggravated it there was a chance it wouldn’t heal completely right. But the scar was the least of his worries. He watched as Kirk trembled in the corner, his eyes darting around the room, and finally stopping on McCoy. Jim’s expression changed from fear to unabashed rage.

Leonard had only seconds to react as Kirk flew at him, growling and fists up, ready to fight.

“You’re not leaving this place alive, Kodos!”

_Kodos?_

_What th—_

_Oh, God._

_I hope that goddamn machine didn’t fry his brain._

_The sedative I gave him must have screwed with his brain chemistry._

_He’s losin’ it…_

Jim’s fist connected with Leonard’s jaw, knocking him backwards slightly. It was the first time he had ever been on the receiving end of a punch from Kirk, and he hoped it would be the last. He couldn’t stand the look of terror mixed with fury in his eyes. McCoy wanted nothing more than to wave a magic wand and take all of this away, but as Jim lunged at him again, he knew that wasn’t going to happen.

Now he just had to figure out what the hell to do.

“Jim…its _Bones_ …look at me.” He dodged a sweeping punch. “Kodos isn’t here. It’s just us…you need to believe me.”

Jim swung wildly at him, teeth bared. He could tell that the young Captain was no longer in control of himself—that he wasn’t there. Something deep in his brain was fuelling the rage that drove him, something that only Jim could see and hear.

“Jim, listen to me!” McCoy ducked out of the way, Jim’s fist barely missing his temple. Kirk charged at him, grabbing him around the midsection and pushing him back against the wall.

McCoy knew in that instant that he wasn’t going to talk his way out of this. He’d have to fight.

And win.

Leonard channeled everything he had learned from mandatory self-defense courses at the Academy. Brought to mind every bar fight he had witnessed Jim participate in, trying to compress years’ worth of knowledge into this very moment. And then it hit him. The only way he was going to take Jim down.

_I’ve only got one shot at this._

_If I’m not careful I could kill him…_

Jim was a hell of a fighter—whether he was in his right mind or not. And McCoy knew it would take a miracle for him to come out victorious. At least he had Jim’s semi-weakened state on his side, as he took note that his right arm was slower to move than his left. He just knew he had to win quickly, or Kirk was liable to inflict more damage on himself than he would Leonard.

And he didn’t know what would be worse.

McCoy mustered all his strength and pushed Jim away from himself, wrenching Kirk’s strong hands from his torso. When Jim was a few inches away, Leonard unleashed his first attack. He swept his leg out, knocking Kirk to his knees. Quick as lightning, McCoy moved behind Jim and wrapped his arm around his neck, tightening his elbow just underneath the younger man’s chin.

Kirk immediately struggled in his grip, pushing them both back and into the corner. He clawed at McCoy’s arms, his fingernails leaving long red scratches on his skin. Not willing to let go, Leonard squeezed harder, trying to cut off oxygen flow to Jim’s brain. He knew they were on a slippery slope: not enough pressure and Kirk would escape his grip—too much and he would send him into cardiac arrest. He needed just enough force to knock him out before doing any permanent damage.

Jim began to flail his arms backwards at the Doctor, swatting erratically at anything he could make contact with. One of his hands caught Leonard in the face, grazing his cheek. Seconds later, his breathing turned into gasps as his windpipe was constricted. Fight or flight obviously kicked in, because Kirk began slamming them both into the wall, twisting his body desperately in order to get away.

_Jesus, stop struggling._

_Please…_

_Just go out._

McCoy grunted loudly as he pulled his elbow tighter against Jim’s throat. He laid his other hand on top of Kirk’s head and pressed down for leverage. Maybe that would give him the extra added force he needed to end this quickly.

Jim gulped huge amounts of air, trying to get something—anything into his lungs. His thrashing began to wane as his strength left him. His feet slipped from underneath him as his knees buckled, dragging both of them down to the floor.

A few more quick moments of writhing and Jim’s head fell slack on McCoy’s arm and his body stilled. Leonard immediately released his elbow and frantically pressed his forefinger to Kirk’s neck. He was relieved to feel a steady pulse thumping underneath. Satisfied that Jim was safely unconscious in his arms, he allowed the floodgates to burst.

He sobbed.

Holding Jim tightly, all the emotions that had been bubbling up since the moment they came to the surface poured out of exhausted eyes.

_I can’t believe I just choked you out._

_Why did this happen?_

_How did it get this bad?_

_I love you so much…_

_I hope I can get you back…_

_…save you…_

_I’m terrified, Jim._

McCoy nuzzled his face into Kirk’s short hair, his tears soaking the scalp of the unconscious man sitting silent in his embrace.

XxX   XxX   XxX   XxX   XxX   XxX  

 

“Attacked McCoy, you say?”

Ka’al rubbed his chin, smirking at the news.

“Yes, Master. Kirk woke up and immediately began to fight him. He was rambling and calling McCoy by another name.” The messenger paused as she tried to recall the information. “I believe he addressed McCoy as ‘Kodos.’ The Doctor finally subdued him—with force.”

Ka’al was ecstatic. Not only was Kirk showing signs of insanity, but was also attacking his lover. He was happy he had decided not to use the machine again. Gravely injuring Kirk, letting McCoy save his life only to have the Captain turn on him—it was almost too good to be true.

“Force?”

“He choked him into unconsciousness.”

Ka’al bellowed out a great laugh. “Wonderful! It seems our guest has finally lost his mind. Tazan will want to hear this news, after all—it’s his machine that has rendered such incredible results.”

“What do you plan to do with them now, Master?”

The tyrant thought silently for a long moment, tapping his fingers on his desktop. “I no longer have any use for either of them. I know their people are out there somewhere watching and waiting.” He stood and turned, looking out across the sleeping city before him. “If the Federation officers want something to watch…I’ll give them something that will be sure to grab their attention.”

He inhaled deeply and held the breath before exhaling triumphantly. He never turned around.

“Execute them.”


	12. Chapter Twelve

Shot in the Dark: Chapter Twelve

 

                “Is the transponder still functioning?”

The henchman nodded quickly. “Yes, Master. And it hasn’t been moved, as you requested.”

Ka’al smiled devilishly in the dawn light. He looked down at the city center, where the podium had been draped with colorful banners. The transponder from Kirk’s boot had been placed there, sitting unmoving as it transmitted signals back to the Starfleet men. Ka’al knew they would take notice that it hadn’t moved in over twelve hours, and hoped it would be enough to lure them into town. Two poles had been erected in the middle for the festivities. He wanted his honored guests to be the center of attention as they were killed.

“Good.” He turned to face the young man. “Has Kirk attacked McCoy again?”

“No, Sir. At last check he was sleeping fitfully, but hadn’t lashed out any more. The Doctor has been awake most of the night caring him.”

Ka’al scowled. “It’s a pity that Captain Kirk hasn’t had another spell. I would have loved to hear that he injured his lover, especially after the Doctor had spent all night as his side. McCoy doesn’t seem to be as hearty as his counterpart. I doubt Kirk would have had a problem beating him mercilessly.”

“He did seem to be ill, Master. The guard said Kirk vomited several times during the night.”

“At least he’s suffering.” Ka’al clasped his hands behind his back and turned back to the window view. “Spread the word about this afternoon’s execution. Make sure it reaches every corner of the city. I want a flyer in every hand.”

“Yes, Sir.”

Ka’al waited until he heard the door close. “Your time is coming, James. Soon you will lay dead at my feet, with your precious Doctor following right behind you.”

 

XxX   XxX   XxX   XxX   XxX   XxX  

 

“Mister Spock!” N’Jal burst into the small room where the Starfleet officers were conferring, wildly waving a piece of paper in the air. “They’re going to execute your Captain and Doctor McCoy!”

The Vulcan pursed his lips and set down his PADD. “This is troubling news, especially considering the data coming from Captain Kirk’s transponder.”

“What do you mean?” She approached the table where they sat and Chekov pulled out a chair for her.

“Last night the signal stopped moving and has been stationary for almost twelve hours. Are you certain you heard the message correctly?”

Chekov got a worried look on his face. “You don’t think…”

“You needn’t worry, they are still alive. For the moment.” N’Jal passed the sheet of paper down the table, each officer looking at it with concern.

When Spock finally received the leaflet, he looked at it intently. The images were horrifying. Two black and white photos of the captive Starfleet men, both beaten and bloodied. The header on the handout was printed in bold red lettering.

**WITNESS THE END OF STARFLEET**

“It appears that Ka’al is planning to make a spectacle of Captain Kirk and Doctor McCoy.”

Mak’ai accepted the flyer from Spock. “We need to move now! If we hesitate any more they will be dead by this afternoon, and Ka’al isn’t a fan of quick and painless.”

“I agree with Mak’ai, Sir.” Lieutenant Jax tapped his fingers nervously on the tabletop. “I know that our strategy isn’t as refined as we would like it to be, but we don’t have the luxury of more planning time.”

“Agreed, Lieutenant.” Spock tapped a few commands into his PADD. “In lieu of this new information, the aforementioned ‘plan’ is quickly becoming obsolete. We must change it, as rapidly as possible, to accommodate our new situation. I am open to suggestions.”

N’Jal offered an idea. “I don’t believe we have to alter the mission much at all, Mister Spock. We can still utilize our original plan of getting into the city center through the abandoned tunnel system. But, where we were originally going to go all the way to the citadel, we can exit the caverns prematurely. It will bring us to the edge of the square.”

“Are you certain we can find a way out before the capitol building?”

“Mister Spock, with all due respect I would have never brought it up if I didn’t think it was relevant. My scouts aren’t untrained children, and I trust their information without a doubt.” N’Jal pulled a small notebook out of her inner jacket pocket and flipped it open. She took a moment to look over whatever was written. “They ran reconnaissance on an area that we hadn’t fully explored in the past. I mentally projected where I thought the unexplored tunnels went, and, thankfully, I was mostly correct. There is an exit forty meters from the edge of the square, and another twenty meters to the podium where the execution is set to take place.”

The officers shifted uncomfortably in their seats as she mentioned the impending death sentence.

“If we leave within sixty minutes, it will take us a maximum of two hours to traverse the system. We should arrive at the city center with plenty of time to spare.”

“Let’s say we get there before it starts,” Lieutenant Xin said, playing devil’s advocate. “What then? If we burst out of the tunnels, we’ll be spotted instantly. Do you expect us just to wait in the shadows?”

“Yes.” N’Jal was nonchalant in her response.

Xin scoffed. “And watch Ka’al torture our Captain?”

“If need be…yes.”

“Mister Spock, I can’t believe you’re letting this even be suggested!” Xin’s face was red. “She’s proposing that we sit idly by while a madman kills our officers!”

N’Jal narrowed her eyes and was about to begin to yell, but Spock stopped her with a held-up hand. “Lieutenant Xin, I must ask you to lower your voice and think before you speak, lest you say something that will insult our hostesses.” He turned to N’Jal. “Now, if you would be so kind as to continue with your thought.”

The Xentian woman took a cleansing breath before continuing. “Thank you, Mister Spock. Now, as I was about to say before I was interrupted,” she said, glancing accusingly at Xin, “although it may be difficult to watch the events unfold, it is essential if you want your Captain and Doctor to survive. We must give our members on the outside time to get into position.”

“Position? For vat?” Chekov looked intrigued.

Mak’ai took over. “We didn’t want to get any hopes up by mentioning it if we weren’t sure it was going to work, but…”

“…our warriors are ready to storm the square.” N’Jal had a very confident expression.

“Pardon me, N’Jal, Mak’ai, but are you certain your soldiers are ready for a siege of this magnitude?” Spock did not look convinced.

“Yes.” N’Jal never backed down, and answered with an air of sureness never heard from her before. “We have been planning for something like this to happen since the beginning of Ka’al’s takeover. We just needed a reason to launch the attack—and a little help.”

“And ve’re ze help.” Chekov smiled warmly at her.

“Exactly. What better reason than the unethical execution—which won’t happen, I assure you—of Starfleet officers to justify taking down a tyrant?”

“And how do you expect to get all your soldiers ready in less than three hours? And what about arming them? Will they even know what to do?” Once again, Xin was doubtful. “This isn’t a game. What you’re suggesting is a full-on siege of a heavily fortified citadel with armed guards.”

“With all due respect, Lieutenant, I’m starting to become very offended by your tone and lack of faith in us.” N’Jal’s nostrils flared. “We aren’t just some little rag-tag group with lofty aspirations and lack of manpower. We’ve been strategizing and training for this since before the Federation ever set foot on this planet.”

“But Ka’al wasn’t in power before we arrived. You’re contradicting yourself!”

N’Jal stood abruptly, knocking her chair backwards. Her scales glistened with a crimson glow as her anger finally erupted. “You know nothing of what went on our planet before you came! Our leaders may have been blind to what was happening, but we weren’t! We knew this was going to happen!” She pounded her fist on the table. “How dare you come to _my home_ and accuse us of flying into this blindly! We are more prepared than you could possibly imagine!”

Spock stood and tried to diffuse the situation. “N’Jal, I am sure Lieutenant Xin meant no harm. She was merely trying to ensure the safety of our crewmembers. It is part of her job as security to assess all probabilities and bring potential problems to light. I am not suggesting that your solution to our conundrum will end in tragedy, but there is a possibility of failure. She would not be doing her job if she didn’t question the aspects of the mission.”

Mak’ai gently grabbed her friend’s arm and guided her back to her seat, hissing soothingly in her native language. N’Jal’s red glow began to dim as she calmed. “I understand that she is just following protocol. I know that your duty is to your Captain first. But I want you to realize that this isn’t a joke to us. Our culture is at stake…our way of life. The fact that you have now been involved is both a blessing and curse.”

“A curse?” Chekov raised an eyebrow.

“The minute you set foot on this planet, the rules of engagement changed. Granted, Captain Kirk had no way of knowing what was happening with the Graz’ Kuul-ai, but Starfleet’s presence set Ka’al off.” N’Jal sighed heavily and shook her head. “We don’t blame the Federation for what happened, but…”

“…you believe that had Starfleet not come, you would have had more time to prepare for the inevitable.” Jax’s expression was solemn.

“Exactly. Our group has been working for years amassing our forces, collecting weapons, and tightening our defenses and strategies. We had the foresight to know that Ka’al would be successful in his coup, even when the Shaman and his lackeys had the public convinced that nothing was wrong. We would have struck back at Ka’al and his cronies eventually, but we certainly weren’t planning on doing it tomorrow. That being said, I assure you that my fighters will be ready—and willing to give their lives for not only your Captain and Doctor McCoy but for their fellow Xentians as well.”

Xin turned to N’Jal, a sympathetic look on her face. “My apologies for insinuating that your soldiers weren’t ready. I understand now that you aren’t just a bunch of untrained children, like I had originally—and very arrogantly—thought.”

“Thank you, Lieutenant. I realize that it must be very difficult to leave the fate of your Captain and officers in the hands of strangers. But I assure you that we care as much about them as we do our own.” N’Jal and Mak’ai looked at each other and both began to glow a bright blue. “You may be as alien to us as we seem to you, but we all consider you honorary Xentians. Your Captain risked his life for our people after nearly losing it on our soil. That show of bravery and honor did not go unnoticed. We can never repay him or the Federation for the sacrifices you have made. Assisting you in their rescue is the least we could do.”

“Thank you for your candor, N’Jal.” Spock activated a small holo-device in the middle of the table, bringing up a three-dimensional map of the city center. “Now, if you would be so kind as to give us the details of your planned siege. We do not have much time left.”

“Of course, Mister Spock.” She stood, inserted a small chip into the device and waved her clawed finger through the image, rotating it in mid-air. She zeroed in on a small outlet underneath a staircase. “This small grate is where we will be emerging. It goes back into a storm sewer cistern. Located in the back of the room is a blocked-over door. My scouts have removed the debris on the tunnel side and managed to force the door open. It was evident that no one had tried the door in decades, as it was rusted shut. We are confident no one remembers that it’s even there—and that means Ka’al will be oblivious.”

“And vonce ve’re in ze chamber, how vill ve be able to see ze square? Or get out?” Chekov seemed apprehensive. “Vill ve have enough time?”

“Kirk and McCoy will be paraded around the square, then dragged to the podium. There hasn’t been any word on how they’ll be…” N’Jal stopped herself.

“Please continue, N’Jal. There is no need to avoid using certain phrases or words to protect us. We are all seasoned Starfleet officers.”

“As you wish, Mister Spock.” She enlarged the image with her fingertip and spun it around. “The execution will most likely be by firing squad. But don’t think for one minute that Ka’al intends it to be quick and painless.”

“Zen ve have to get to zem quickly.”

“When the time is appropriate, Ensign. I know that you want to go running in waving weapons, but if we act hastily, Ka’al will have them dead at his feet before we can get close.” N’Jal squared her shoulders and took a deep breath. “Ka’al will more than likely beat them publically before he restrains them for the sentence. That is when we’ll move. The crowd will be busy—either cheering or berating Ka’al verbally for his actions. His guards will be dealing with those spectators…”

Mak’ai smiled wickedly. “…and of course, those ‘spectators’ work for us.”

“You’ve recruited people to make a scene?” Jax had a huge grin on his face. “That’s really smart.”

“Thank you, Lieutenant. Like I’ve said in the past, we may not look like much, but we’re full of surprises. Hopefully ones Ka’al will never see coming.” N’Jal tapped a command into the projector on the tabletop and the image began to move, highlighting a pre-determined route. “If you emerge during the chaos of the beatings, you should be virtually undetected. My soldiers and I will be waiting within the crowd, and will be ready to create a diversion, if needed. That should give you and our fighters enough time to get into position for the signal.”

“Signal? Don’t you think that would be obvious to Ka’al’s men?”

“Not when it’s something that happens every day.” Mak’ai reached over and moved the holo-image. A clock tower appeared. “When the bells toll eleven, we can strike.”

N’Jal ran with her idea. “If we follow our schedule, we should be in the crowd long before the spectacle starts—ready and waiting.”

“And what if Ka’al decides to speed things up? Or not beat them at all?” Xin played devil’s advocate once more. “He could just put a bullet in both their heads and be done with it.”

“That’s not how he operates. He’s all about slow and painful. He wants to make a scene, to show the people what will happen if they cross him.” N’Jal sighed heavily. “I’m afraid that your Captain and Doctor will have to endure physical harm in order for this to go smoothly. And we’ll just have to wait until the appropriate time or we risk not only their lives, but the lives of countless innocents as well. My people are prepared to make a sacrifice, but the rest of the Xentians should not be required to.”

“That is very honorable of your fighters, N’Jal. Let us hope that such a sacrifice is not needed.” Spock turned to Wilcox and Xin. “Are the modifications made to the Xentian weapons?”

“As best as we could get them, Sir.” Wilcox didn’t look certain. “Their guns fire projectiles. We had to retro-fit them with a small pulse generator to emit the beta waves along with firing bullets. We have fifteen, maybe twenty if we haul ass—sorry Sir— _speed up our efforts_. But I can’t even guarantee that it will work. It was all on the fly.”

“Have you changed over our weapons?”

“Yes, Sir. That fix was easy.”

“Then it will have to be enough.” Spock pursed his lips, then turned to N’Jal. “How do you propose to get our officers into the square undetected? We will be seen instantly without some form of disguise.”

“We’ve got plenty of clothes lying around. We’ll make sure you’re not spotted.” N’Jal’s eyes glanced up at Spock’s ears, a small smile crossing her thin lips. She continued without mentioning them. “And we’ll be close. I believe that everyone will be so preoccupied with what Ka’al is doing, that no one will notice us.”

“Let’s hope you’re right.” Xin’s tone was laced with apprehension.

“Have faith in us, Lieutenant. We are all striving for a mutual outcome of peace.”

Xin continued her thoughts. “Alright, so let’s say we’re successful in releasing the Captain and Doctor. What then? Please don’t take this the wrong way, but it seems unlikely that Ka’al’s men will just lay down their weapons. And what about Ka’al himself? I doubt he’d surrender.”

“You are absolutely correct.” Mak’ai shifted in her seat. “There is a real possibility that Ka’al and the warriors surrounding him will either be killed or attempt an escape. Ka’al is self-preserving—he’d never stay and fight when his minions could do it for him. He talks big, but in the end, he’s just a coward.”

“That’s why he has all those poor bastards brainwashed to follow him.” The contempt was thick in N’Jal’s voice. “They’d jump in front of a bullet for him, and he knows it. He’d rather let them die while he runs away with his tail between his legs.”

Spock raised concern. “We are under orders to take Ka’al alive if at all possible. He is to be brought back to Earth to stand trial for his crimes against the Federation and its assets. It is essential that he not be harmed.”

“In the heat of battle, Mister Spock, one can’t be choosy.” N’Jal answered back quite quickly. “Every effort will be made to take him alive, but you need to realize that it might not happen. He’ll more than likely try to run, and we’ll be forced to give chase.”

“Then just make sure your soldiers know not to fatally wound him.” Xin’s sharp tone had returned, and she was immediately greeted with stern glances from both Spock and her fellow officers.

“Lieutenant Xin, if my fighters are met with resistance and need to use lethal force, then they will. I will make sure they are all aware of Starfleet’s wishes, but when met with the possibility of losing their own life if they don’t fire on him…I’m afraid you’re just going to have to accept what happens.” The scales on N’Jal’s body glistened, alternating between red and blue. “This is wartime, and no one is safe.”

An uncomfortable quiet passed over the room as no one spoke. Chekov drummed his fingers on the table as the reality of the situation sunk in. This was war—civil war. Lives would be lost today, on both sides.

Wilcox finally chimed in. “Alright, so once we either kill Ka’al or take him into custody, then what? His warriors will surely try and fight back.”

“Possibly.” Mak’ai sighed and tried to word her response carefully. “They are cowards following a coward. Even though they all see him as a powerful warmonger, they also know he’s a constant threat to them. If they witness him running away like an animal, they may do the same. That’s not to say that at some point they won’t come back, but we’ll be ready for them when and if they do.”

“Ka’al purposely didn’t train or groom anyone to be any sort of successor or second in command,” N’Jal added. “He was afraid of mutiny or being taken over and killed for his position. That’s why he recruited the ‘unwanteds’, so to speak.”

“Unvanteds?” Chekov’s voice sounded uncertain and confused.

“Xentians who were shunned, slower in mental capabilities, followers…anyone who would blindly do whatever he said.”

“And you believe they will just stop following him the moment he runs? If he even does run…” Xin shook her head. “You seem very sure that he’ll turn tail.”

“It’s true that I don’t know exactly what will happen, and that he may very well fight to the death along with his minions. But my instinct tells me that he’ll run. Don’t ask me why I feel this way, I just do. Trust me—please.”

Xin rolled her eyes and pleaded with Spock. “Sir, I can’t believe you’re willing to risk the lives of our Captain and CMO, not to mention our own, on a hunch. This has gotten out of control.”

“Lieutenant, this is the second time I have had to reprimand you for your outbursts. I do not wish there to be a third.” Spock’s voice was stern, raising his eyebrows as he warned her. “In a perfect situation, this strategy would be the last one I would choose, but we do not have the time or the resources to formulate another. I suggest that if you are not willing to participate that you leave the discussion. If that is the case, be prepared to face judgment by your peers at a hearing once we return to the _Enterprise._ ”

Xin backed down, still scowling. “I understand, Sir.”

“Thank you, Lieutenant.” He turned back to the Xentian women. “Though laced with needless emotions, Xin does bring up a valid argument. What will become of the rest of his men once we have either taken Ka’al into custody or ended his life? And how are we to escape to the designated extraction point?”

“You should be able to escape in the chaos that will undoubtedly ensue once we strike. I suggest you re-enter the tunnels and make your way back to our Headquarters. To use a phrase I have heard Captain Kirk use in the past—you should ‘run like hell.’” Mak’ai smiled broadly. “I doubt you will encounter any resistance once you emerge from the passageways. Ka’al’s men will be far too busy dealing with the ruckus in the square.”

“Ve can’t just leave you to deal vith the mess!” Chekov’s concern—and mounting guilt—was evident. “You vill be starting a civil war. Ve can’t in good conscience abandon you to fight on your own.”

N’Jal patted him on the hand. “It is very noble of you to feel that way, Ensign. But your duty is to your Captain, not to us. We have prepared for this for a long time. We are willing to take responsibility for anything and everything that may happen. Yes, there will be bloodshed. Yes, there will be unrest within the community. But we do not expect Starfleet to help.”

“It is our problem to deal with. Too much Federation blood has been spilled for our people already. It was the fault of Luuk-ti that Starfleet came in the first place and was unaware of the situation that was about to boil over.” Mak’ai’s face showed a deep-rooted sadness. “Our people have to own up to their mistakes—that they allowed the Shaman to lull them into a false sense of security. Even though Ka’al’s takeover was inevitable, a great deal of the population understands that they were misled by our former leaders. They want change—they just don’t know how to achieve it.”

N’Jal continued with Mak’ai’s thought. “You’ve given us the boost in confidence and the push we needed to make our move. We Xentians are a proud people. We will not let a tyrant take for the sake of taking. Our people will show our resolve and beat the Graz’ Kuul-ai into submission.” She puffed out her chest proudly. “We will take back our government for our people. Xentia will be grand once again, I promise you that.”

“Do you feel you are prepared to lead an entire governmental body?” Spock raised an eyebrow at the two women.

“I won’t lie, Mister Spock. I know it will be difficult and we will undoubtedly encounter many obstacles along the way. But our band of fighters will work diligently to get the people on our side—as many already are. We are confident they will work with us to ensure that memories of Ka’al’s takeover are cast into the winds of time but never forgotten—and certainly never repeated.”

“I am pleased to hear that, N’Jal. I feel that Xentia will be in very capable and trustworthy hands should our plan succeed.” Spock clasped his hands together on the tabletop. “Now, are we all in agreement with the strategy? Is everything clear as to what will transpire?”

Everyone around the table nodded.

“We have approximately forty-six minutes until we need to move. Please use that time wisely to prepare yourselves and your weapons.”

The officers and both Xentian women stood, the Starfleet personnel acknowledging Spock with a unison “Yes, Sir.” They filed out of the room, breaking off to tend to their individual tasks. Spock looked down at his PADD one last time, Kirk’s signal still stationary, before accompanying N’Jal and Mak’ai to inspect the soldiers.

 

XxX   XxX   XxX   XxX   XxX   XxX  

 

“Jim?”

Kirk stirred on the floor, his forehead creasing with lines as his body protested the movement. As the Doctor guided him onto his back, Jim tried to brush his hands away. A pained groan croaked from his lips as he gingerly cracked his eyes open, only to shut them again seconds later. McCoy gently stroked his cheek with his thumb.

“C’mon, darlin’. Show me those sparklin’ blues.” Leonard nudged Jim’s chin upwards with his hand. “You need to wake up.”

_I need to know you’re still with me._

_You were so crazy last night…_

“Bones…” Jim’s voice was gravelly and weak. But at least he remembered who McCoy was, and for that, Leonard was eternally grateful. The fear that he had damaged Jim’s brain somehow by depriving him of oxygen the night before began to wane. Now he just had to check on the wounds Ka’al had caused—and the ones by his own hands as well.

He slowly lifted Jim’s shirt—he had replaced it during the night as Jim had been taken by fever chills—and inspected the thick pink scar on the younger man’s abdomen. The bruising had faded significantly. He quickly waved his Tricorder over the area, the instrument indicating that his internal organs were healing as they should. Satisfied Jim was _physically_ out of danger; he set the device aside and brought Kirk into a seated position, making sure his arm was firmly cradling Jim’s lower back for support.

“Right here, kid.” McCoy rubbed his fingers over Jim’s ear. “How are you feeling?”

Jim didn’t answer right away, as he leaned forward and buried his head in his hands. A long moment later, he finally spoke. “Kinda sick to my stomach. What happened? I feel like I was pile-drived by a Gorn.”

“Don’t you remember?”

Jim sighed and allowed Leonard to maneuver him back into his embrace. “You asked me if you could give me some drugs. I was hurt bad, wasn’t I?”

“I almost lost you.”

“I’m sorry, Bones.” Kirk fished around between their bodies and found McCoy’s hand, feebly squeezing.

“Don’t be. Even though you must have said something to piss Ka’al off, you had no idea that he would react the way he did.”

“I didn’t do anything. At least…not at first.”

“What do you mean, ‘not at first’?” McCoy scowled in the low light of the pre-dawn filtering though the small barred window high on the far wall.

Jim shifted his weight in Leonard’s lap, letting out a small moan as he tried to bring his right arm across his abdomen. “After I decided to give myself up, we put a transponder in the heel of my boot to track me. Spock and I figured it would help them to find us once they attempted their rescue. It popped out when Ka’al was laying into me…I guess it pissed him off.”

“You think?” McCoy tried not to scold Jim. The kid had just been through major surgery—yes, it was a field procedure—but an operation nonetheless. He knew he needed to keep Kirk calm and unstressed. Deciding to save the lecture for another time, he bit his tongue. “I’m just glad you’re here talking to me now. You scared the hell outta me. When they brought you back…”

“I saw the look in your eyes, Bones. It terrified me that you were afraid.”

_You don’t know the half of it._

_But maybe you do._

“Well, there’s no use dwelling on the past. I fixed you up and that pointy-eared weirdo will spring us soon.” He tightened his arms around Jim.

“Yeah…” Jim billowed out a long breath. “Something’s nagging at me, though.”

McCoy could hear the apprehension in Jim’s voice.

“I feel like something else happened—afterwards…it feels like it was a dream, but I don’t know for sure.” Kirk shuddered in Leonard’s arms.

McCoy felt incredibly guilty. His head drooped and he rested his chin in Jim’s hair. He didn’t know how to tell him what had transpired the night before. God knows he didn’t ever want to acknowledge what he had done. After he had spent all night tending to Jim—through all the vomiting, incoherent rambling, and frightening moments when Leonard thought Kirk would never come back to him—he didn’t know if he had it in himself to admit that he had caused a lot of the pain. He just wanted to protect Jim.

_How do I tell you how insane you were?_

_Or how I had to choke you to the point of almost losing you?_

_How do I know you won’t do it again?_

McCoy pulled Kirk closer to him, relishing in the gentle warmth that radiated off the younger man. He took a deep breath. “You went crazy, darlin’. It was like something in you snapped—I don’t know if it was from the sedatives I gave you or the lingering side effects from Ka’al’s contraption—or both.”

“Crazy?”

“Yeah…”

“Bones,” Jim’s voice was quiet and pleading. “What did I do?”

McCoy closed his eyes, listening to the sound of Kirk’s soft breathing. He didn’t want to tell him. He didn’t want to be there.

_I don’t want any of this…_

_…except you._

“You attacked me.” Leonard’s voice was laden with emotion. “You were out of your mind and I did what I had to do to keep you from hurting yourself—and me.”

“Did…what you had to?”

“I choked you out.” McCoy lightly kissed the top of Kirk’s head. “It was my only option. I’m…so sorry.”

Jim didn’t respond, and instead pressed his body into Leonard’s own. They sat there for a long moment in silence, holding each other. Neither man needed to say anything. They both knew the other was sorry for their actions—whether they had been in control or not.

The peace was short lived. With no warning, Jim’s body went rigid and he began to try and get away from the Doctor. He clawed at McCoy’s arms as he attempted to push the older man aside.

“Jesus, Bones, don’t you see him?” Jim’s voice was laced with sheer terror.

“See who? Darlin’ you’ve got to calm down. It’s just you and me.” McCoy tried to keep a hold on Jim. Kirk’s strength was obviously coming back to him, though, as the young Captain shoved Leonard out of the way, knocking him back on his rear end.

“Nero!” Kirk pointed a shaking finger at the empty corner.

_I knew it was too good to be true._

_Something’s really wrong_

_I’ve got to get him back to the ship._

_Where the hell are you, Spock?_

McCoy approached his cowering friend. He held his arms out, showing Jim that he wasn’t a threat. “Listen to me, okay? There’s no one here. Nero’s dead. Jim…”

“He’s…” Jim screwed his eyes shut, grabbing the sides of his face. “…he’s not here?”

Leonard inched closer to Kirk, trying to assess his neurological status from his body language. Jim’s eyes were darting around the room, his face was flushed. His entire body trembled.

“He’s. Not. Here, Jim. No one’s here—no one’s going to hurt you.”

_Boy, if that isn’t the biggest lie ever._

_Those goons are right outside the door, just waiting for the order take you again._

“What’s happening to me, Bones?” Kirk’s eyes glistened with moisture.

McCoy was relieved when Kirk allowed him to get close enough to embrace. “I think there’s something going on with your brain chemistry…or worse.”

“Worse?” Jim shook in Leonard’s arms.

“I think that machine damaged your brain somehow.” He wrapped his strong arms around Jim and held on tight. “We’ve got to get out of here.”

Jim’s voice was barely above a whisper. “I’m scared.”

“Me too, kid.”

Jingling chain mail at the end of the hall caught both men’s attention. McCoy instinctively held Jim closer, protecting him from whatever—or whomever—was coming. Heavy footsteps clunked on the cobblestones.

Leonard didn’t know whether to feel relieved or worried when Kogas appeared. The guard beckoned to him with a bent finger, another one pressed to his lips in an attempt to quiet him before he spoke. McCoy let go of Jim and scurried to the barred door.

“Don’t speak, just listen.” Kogas took a moment to look over his shoulder before continuing. His voice was hushed. “The others are coming for you. You’re...to be executed.”

McCoy’s heart dropped to his feet. His lungs froze and he wasn’t able to draw a breath. It didn’t matter anyhow, as the air around him suddenly felt like an Arctic blast. His hands began to shake.

“I am…sorry, Doctor. But…” He hesitated and hung his head. “…what you said to me…no one has ever spoken to me like that—ever. I felt I owed it to you to be the one to bring the news.”

Leonard licked his suddenly dry lips and croaked out a response. “You’ve proven yourself to be a friend, Kogas. I just wish you could save us.”

“I feel the same, _Leonard._ ” The sound of hissing soldiers coming down the stairs startled them both. “I will never forget you.”

The man disappeared into the darkness and through another door to the side of the cells. McCoy ran back to Jim, unsure how to break the news.

_Well, that’s it._

_I don’t…_

_…want to die._

_Jim…_

“Bones?” Kirk tried to push himself up off the ground. Faltering, McCoy rushed in and helped him stand. “What’s going on?”

McCoy pulled him close and mashed his lips desperately against the younger man’s. He knew this might be the last time he ever got to kiss him. Kirk melted into his embrace and accepted the affection for a moment, before pushing him away.

“Bones…something’s wrong…isn’t it?” He looked at him with a mixture of confusion and fear, cupping the older man’s cheeks in his hands. “Tell me the truth.”

McCoy didn’t know how to break the news. “We’re…to be executed.”

Jim silently stared into his eyes for a long moment before allowing his head to droop. He blew out a long sigh. When he finally spoke, his voice was regretful. “I did this to us, Bones. I got us into this mess.”

Leonard wrapped his arms around him. “You did what you thought was right. Yes, trying to save me was a stupid idea, but at least I got to have you close in my final moments.”

“We’re going to die because of me.”

“I’d rather die with you by my side than be forced to be without you for the rest of my life.”

Jim pushed away from him and moved to the corner, turning his body into the bricks. “You shouldn’t have to die at all.”

McCoy followed, placing his hands on Kirk’s hips. “You’re right. But we’re in this together, so we might as well face the music. And I can’t believe I’m going to say this, but…” He sighed and shook his head with a slight chuckle. “…I have faith in Spock. He’s going to come get us, or I’ll rip his goddamn ears off and shove them down his throat.”

“You always know how to lighten a situation, you know that?” Jim turned to face him. “I really am sorry, Bones.”

“I know, kid.”

They stood in each other’s arms and waited for the guards to come.

 


	13. Chapter Thirteen

Shot in the Dark: Chapter Thirteen

                The bright sunlight burned McCoy’s eyes. He raised his shackled hands in front of his face to shield it from the sun.

He and Kirk had been dragged through the dank and dusty corridors of the prison, Jim starting to show signs that his mental issue was once again rearing its ugly head. Just as the guards had opened the heavy door to the town square, Kirk cried out in terror, thinking he was back on Tarsus. McCoy begged him to calm down, trying to soothe as the brutes accompanying them tossed Jim to the ground when he didn’t comply.

One soldier had actually grabbed Jim by the head, yanking his body upwards so hard McCoy feared he would tear Kirk’s skull from his spine. And Jim continued to rant—seemingly unaware that he was being led to his death. Ka’al’s men just laughed, kicking the defenseless young Captain’s legs out from underneath him. His head smacked against the stone floor with a sickening crack.

“Leave him alone! We’re going to be dead soon anyway, what’s the point?”

They all turned towards McCoy—some laughing, others seething with anger. One of the guards lunged at him and slammed his fist into Leonard’s stomach.

“You are in no place to tell us what to do… _human._ ” His crimson glow rippled over his skin in waves.

McCoy tried to catch his breath as his diaphragm protested the impact. His ears rang as the pain radiated from his abdomen to his brain. He could barely hear Jim’s whimpering from the ground in front of him.

“…Kodos will…kill us! Bones…gotta get out…”

The soldiers laughed at Jim, shaking their heads. One spit on his back. “Pathetic. This one’s insane, and the old man can’t even take a little blow from my mighty fist!”

“Who’re you calling old?” McCoy gritted his teeth and straightened up. He may be minutes away from dying, but he wasn’t about to let this guy insult him. “You know, if we’re going to be throwing slurs around, you had better be prepared to give me a crack… _Lizard breath._ ”

Jim laughed from the floor. “Good one, Bones…”

_You’re really fading in and out, aren’t you, kid?_

_Just hang on…_

_Spock and the cavalry are coming…_

The obviously offended warrior stormed towards McCoy, stopping millimeters from his face. His tongue flicked out over his lips, hot air puffing from his reptilian nostrils. “You would be wise to shut your puny mouth.”

“You won’t do anything to me. Ka’al would have your head if you offed us before he got the chance and you know it.” McCoy spit in his face.

_Jesus Christ, man!_

_What the hell do you think you’re doing?_

The guard huffed and landed a stiff punch to McCoy’s chin. “You’ll be suffering soon…and that is all the reparations I need.” He motioned for the other soldiers to lift Jim to his feet and they were all dragged once again.

As they shuffled out of the door, Jim once again seemed terrorized by his mind. He fought against the restraints, pulling at the cuffs around his wrists. “Let go…need to get away! Kodos will find us…” He clawed at the skin under the manacles, his nails drawing tiny droplets of blood.

One of the warriors lifted Jim high into the air, his feet dangling above the ground. Kirk wriggled in the man’s grip, his demons in full control of his body. “I didn’t take the food, I swear! Kodos doesn’t…”

McCoy could see Jim’s demeanor change yet again, and he figured he was cycling out of the delusion. He fell slack in the brute’s arms, his head drooping in between his shoulders.

“…Bones…I’m sorry…”

The guard dropped Jim, and the Captain crumpled to his knees. The man towering over him wasted no time in pummeling him from above. Left and right, he landed blows to Jim’s back and abdomen, throwing in a kick for good measure.

McCoy couldn’t take it anymore.

“I thought I told you to _leave…him…alone!_

The guard beating Kirk never stopped.

“He’s mentally ill, can’t you see that? He’s defensl—“

McCoy felt the wind being knocked out of his chest before he ever registered that he had been hit. The guard pulled his fist back as Leonard wheezed, falling to his knees. A second later, the barrel of a pistol dug into the base of his skull.

He closed his eyes and waited for the blast.

_I’m sorry, Jim._

_But at least I’m going before you._

_I couldn’t bear to see you die in front of me._

_I love you…_

The seconds seemed like hours as the metal of the weapon scraped the thin skin of his scalp. When nothing happened—neither the gun moving nor it blowing his brain out—he dared to crack open an eye and survey the situation.

Jim was still on the ground, moaning from the latest deluge of blows. The soldier had stopped assaulting him, and now had his eyes trained on the sight in front of him. All the other warriors stood silently, waiting just like he was for the inevitable.

McCoy was shocked when he felt the gun move from his flesh and heard it being holstered. Strong, brutish hands grabbed him under the arms and dragged him to his feet. Jim still lay on the street in a ball, and Leonard had only seconds to whisper to him as he was pulled forward.

“Don’t fight them anymore, darlin’. It’ll be over soon.”

Jim responded with a pained grunt as he was hauled to his feet. His head hung limply between his shoulder blades, his feet dragging on the stone pathway that led to the podium.

The spectators that had jammed the square were eerily silent. McCoy thought they would have been cheering and leering—after all, this was a public execution. But there was hardly a sound. The murmur of a large crowd—people talking and shuffling about—was present, but nothing else.

They all stared, some with pity and regret in their eyes. A child tried to reach out to him, but was pulled back by his mother when one of the guards hissed and lunged at him. McCoy could see the tears in the mother’s eyes as they passed by. She just hung her head and looked away.

He knew they were all terrified—of Ka’al and of what was going to happen to them. They probably all knew that at any moment, any one of them could be next.  

The walk to the podium seemed to take hours. Every Xentian they passed either averted their eyes or recoiled back away from the soldiers accompanying them. It was then that Leonard noticed the entire square was surrounded by Ka’al’s men. As if they were keeping the people from leaving.

_They were forced to come here._

_These bastards won’t let them leave._

_They’re going to make them watch._

_Fearmongers…_

He could hear Jim’s feet scraping against the cobblestone street behind him. The lack of verbal noise from the young Captain worried McCoy. If he was cycling in and out of a delusion, he could be in dire medical straits. But then again, they were minutes away from dying, so it didn’t much matter.

He hoped it would be quick.

But he knew better.

Clawed fingers dug into his bare arms as they pulled him towards the stairs of the stage in the town square. As he stumbled up the steps, his eyes settled on a familiar face.

The man’s expression was solemn, very unlike all his counterparts. Where they were hooting and hollering as they pushed Leonard and Jim down the path, Kogas was silent—watching with sad eyes. McCoy felt that he had gotten through to him the night they saved Jim’s life, and he knew that the Xentian warrior must have been torn.

_I hope you can work to end this._

_Someone has to…_

_Don’t let our deaths be meaningless._

A blow to the small of the back knocked the wind out of McCoy a second time as he was forced up the rickety stairs of the wooden platform. Just as he was about to fall to his knees, he took one last look up at the man who had taken pity on them.

Kogas didn’t flinch or move to help him—not that Leonard would have expected him to. His life would have ended before theirs had he even tried. Instead, the giant man sighed ever so slightly and averted his eyes, looking into the vast and mostly silent crowd.

McCoy didn’t blame him.

 

XxX   XxX   XxX   XxX   XxX XxX  

 

The door N’Jal’s scouts had discovered was indeed rusted shut. Even though they had forced it open when they found it some weeks back, the constant heat and humidity of the jungle-like environment of Xentia allowed for the re-growth of the corrosion along the jamb. It took three officers and Mak’ai almost two minutes to open it again.

The cistern had a layer of sticky sludge on the floor, and years of mud and debris had been pushed up against the walls. There was a stench of decomposing organic material coming from a pile of sticks and leaves in the corner, no doubt washed in by the last rainstorm. Pipes emanating from the walls trickled murky brown water into runoff channels along the outside of the room.

“ _Bozhe moy, eto pakhnet kak dermo zdess!”_ Chekov pinched his nostrils together.

“I don’t know what you said, but I’m thinking I probably agree.” Lieutenant Wilcox scrunched his nose and grimaced. “We’re definitely in a sewer, that’s for sure.”

They made their way to a small grate at the far end, Spock taking point. He motioned for the group to stay back while he and Mak’ai looked out into the square. They both spoke with hushed voices as they knelt on the floor.

“You can see where the podium is,” Mak’ai pointed with her claw. “From the looks of things, it seems as though they are set to be executed by firing squad.”

“We will make sure that does not happen.” Spock shifted his weight on his haunches. “Are you certain we can get through the crowd?”

“Yes. N’Jal has amassed a huge amount of warriors, not to mention everyday Xentians who want to help with the Good Fight. They’re in position and in constant communication.” Mak’ai took a small beacon out of her pocket. “I have a direct link with her.”

Spock nodded and adjusted the settings on his phaser. “Please see to it that you do not sever the signal. We will only have one chance.”

“I understand that all too well, Mister Spock.” Mak’ai checked her chronometer. “It’s ten-forty-five. They should be brought into the square any moment. Ka’al will more than likely want to make a scene…beforehand.”

The officers moved forward at Spock’s silent command, huddling around the small portal. Wilcox immediately moved to the larger front door and began to remove the screws from the hinges. They didn’t need an uncooperative door hindering their escape. When the time came, he would push it aside so they could burst into the square.

A moment later, commotion drew their collective attention to the side of the town center, where they could just catch a glimpse of two battered men being manhandled by guards.

Mak’ai gasped as a gun was pointed at McCoy’s head.

 

XxX   XxX   XxX   XxX   XxX   XxX  

 

Ka’al burst out of the citadel, heavily armed warriors flanking him on either side.

McCoy couldn’t help but sneer.

As the tyrant moved closer to them, the crowd backed up, making room for his entourage. His skin glowed a deep crimson. In talking to Mak’ai at length about her people’s bio-luminescence, he knew red was a sign of anger. He was pretty damn sure though, that it was also a sign of pure evil.

Because by the look of the smile on his face, the warmonger was anything but angry.

McCoy and Jim were being held roughly by the guards. Jim had calmed, and hadn’t rambled incoherently in a few minutes. He had stayed silent, interchanging glances at the crowd and Leonard. He even managed a brief, loving smile.

_No need to try and comfort me, darlin’._

_It’ll be over soon…_

Ka’al stomped up the stairs, the stage shaking under his massive weight. His chainmail jingled, his boots scraping against the already-worn wood of the floor. The crowd stayed silent, no one willing to make a sound. He scrutinized the two prisoners briefly before grabbing Kirk by the shoulders. One of the guards unlocked Jim’s restraints and seconds later, Ka’al had lifted him into the air, pointing him towards the onlookers.

“Look at this weakling! I cannot even call him a ‘man’!” Ka’al roared mightily before slamming Kirk to the ground. Jim rolled onto his side, clutching feebly at his left flank.

McCoy instinctively lunged forward to help him, but was yanked back by one of the soldiers. He tugged on the length of chain that had been attached to Leonard’s manacles and McCoy steadied.

_Like a mutt on a leash…_

_Jesus Christ._

_You had better get your ass in gear, Spock…_

Ka’al stepped over Jim’s writhing form and moved towards the Doctor. “And this one! Getting himself captured, only to have his lover try and save him! Pathetic!” The giant slapped him across the cheek. “These are the faces of Luuk-ti’s so-called ‘friends’! They’re worthless animals, chained and cowering.”

McCoy snarled his lip before turning his attention to Jim. He wanted—no needed—to be by his side. Comforting, healing. Jim needed him.

And they needed each other.

Too bad they were about to die.

Ka’al focused back on Jim. He kicked him with the toe of his boot, forcing him onto his side. Jim’s eyes stared blankly out at the crowd in pain. He paused for a moment before he tried to push himself up. It was then that McCoy noticed it again.

The cycle was starting over.

Jim held his shackled hands to his face, digging his palms into his eyes. He shook his head from side to side as he groaned. His entire body began to tremble in fear as he cried out.

“Frank, don’t!”

He held his hands up in surrender at the sky.

“Look at him! He doesn’t even know where he is! He’s insane!” Ka’al pointed at him with a mighty hand, his voice booming across the square and echoing off the buildings. “Starfleet has made a mentally ill man a Captain. A _Captain!_ How do you feel about your would-be saviors now?”

McCoy could feel his blood begin to boil. It was one thing to torture them both, to almost kill Jim and leave him for dead—but to slander his good name as he lay before him, well…that was the last straw. Leonard felt his bravado swell and before he could stop himself, his words bit across his tongue.

“You made him this way! You fried his brain as you tortured him!” One of the guards punched him in the back of the head for speaking, but it didn’t deter him. He grunted and continued, turning his attention towards the crowd.

_What the hell are you doing?_

_Screw it…I’m going to die anyway; I might as well speak my mind._

_Maybe some of these people will grow a pair and stand up for themselves…_

“This man before you is nothing but a coward! He’s trash! Take a good look at him, because he’s going to decimate your entire way of life! Is this the kind of leader you want? Is this what you want for your children?”

McCoy figured Ka’al would end him right where he stood. So, he was surprised when he was still alive seconds later. The tyrant was laughing mightily.

“No one is going to save you, Doctor McCoy! Go ahead, preach all you want! Your words fall on deaf ears!” Ka’al turned to the mass of people, arms spread wide. “I am their only chance at survival. Without me, Xentia was doomed. I rescued this place and its culture from those ignorant boobs! These citizens know I represent the truth!”

“The truth?” McCoy was flabbergasted. “You slaughtered innocent people! You tortured Federation officers!” He looked to the people once again and wrenched himself away from the soldiers holding him. Ka’al motioned them back and let Leonard stand above Jim. “Is this the kind of leader you want? _Do_ something! There’s thousands of you here. Don’t sit by and let him kill your people—your culture!”

_What the hell am I doing?_

_This isn’t something I would ever do…_

_…but Jim would._

He looked down at Kirk, who stared up at him knowingly. He managed a faint smile, exposing bloody teeth, before Ka’al kicked him down again. The warrior turned to McCoy and pushed him to the floor with a laugh.

“It’s a shame this has to end, Doctor. I’m enjoying watching you embarrass Starfleet with your raving.” But, we’ve gathered here for a reason today.” He commanded the soldiers to grab the prisoners and begin tying them to the stakes. “The Federation came here months ago with the intent of taking our culture. Do not believe any of the propaganda that the Shaman has shoved down your throats for all these years! Look at these men!”

McCoy flinched as Ka’al grabbed Jim by the chin and wrenched his head towards the crowd. Kirk didn’t even protest.

“They represent an organization that cares about only one thing! Taking what they want—when they want it! They are not peaceful! They are not compassionate! Don’t be fooled!” He let go of Jim’s face and moved to stand next to McCoy. Ka’al coiled his clawed fingers around the Doctor’s bicep, drawing blood. McCoy grimaced, but did not cry out. “After they had us rendered submissive with their ‘gifts’ of technology and peace—they would have devastated our culture! I am saving us from this terror before they can act! They will see what I’ve done to their officers and will go running back to their precious Starfleet Headquarters like the cowards they are!”

Leonard couldn’t control his anger any longer. To hear Ka’al blatantly lie to the people, to sully the good name of Starfleet that was respected throughout the quadrant—well, he was going to go out swinging. If he could do one thing to help before he met his maker, he hoped it would be to sway at least a few natives. And he knew damn well that if Ka’al killed them, the Federation would have to act—and innocent lives would most certainly be caught in the crossfire.

And he didn’t want that on anyone’s head.

He struggled against the restraints, not caring that the metal cuffs were rubbing his wrists raw. “Don’t listen to him! He’s tricking you! If he kills us, the Federation will have no choice but to retaliate against him!” The soldier behind him rammed his fist into the small of his back. He grunted in pain before continuing. “The minute our lives end, Ka’al will have sealed your fate. The Fed—“

“Bones…stop. It’s over…” Kirk looked over at McCoy, his blue eyes meeting hazel ones. They glistened with moisture. “…I’m sorry…”

Leonard felt a cord being tightened around his chest as the guards readied them. He swallowed hard. “I know, Jim.”

“If I could turn time back…”

“Listen, kid. I sure as hell don’t believe in any afterlife, but…”

Jim forced a weak smile. “…I think we’ll still travel the galaxy together. But with no restraints.”

“And I promise not to bitch about it.” McCoy returned the smile. “I love you, Jim.”

Before Kirk could reply, Ka’al had him by the throat. Jim gasped as his windpipe was crushed. “Could you hear them? Tragically pining for each other before their deaths! Is this really who you want to ‘save you’?”

The crowd grumbled and looked around at each other. No one dared answer.

“That’s what I thought!” Ka’al released Jim, his head flopping back against the wooden stake. Jim desperately tried to draw a breath, coughing and wheezing. “Let this be a lesson to everyone here. I will not be trifled with. Anyone who thinks they can take me on, I invite you to try. You will suffer the same consequences as these poor souls did.”

The crowd was silent. Mothers held their children tight; men clenched their clawed fists beneath long sleeves of their robes.

“Today marks the day when Starfleet was removed from our lives—forever! I am the supreme authority here! I will never be rem—“

The clock struck eleven and the entire square erupted in chaos.

 

XxX   XxX   XxX   XxX   XxX   XxX  

 

“Meester Spock, ve must help zem! Zey are being brutalized!”

The Vulcan looked to the young Navigator. It was obvious to him by the Ensign’s flushed cheeks and terrified eyes that he was under duress. “Mister Chekov, I understand that you are worried for the Captain and Doctor, but if we move hastily, we risk not only their lives, but countless others as well.”

“But Sir…”

Mak’ai stepped in, laying a comforting hand on Chekov’s shoulder. “Please trust us. It may sound uncaring, but they need to suffer first if we are to get them out alive. If we move now, our people will not have the element of surprise on their side. The rescue would more than likely fail.”

Chekov sighed deeply and nodded. He wrung his hands around the hilt of his phaser rifle. “ _Da,_ you’re right.” He knelt down alongside Mak’ai and watched out the grating.

They listened as Ka’al preached to the mass of people, going on about Starfleet and how the Federation wanted nothing but to take from the Xentians. And all the while, the Captain and Doctor were being beaten, Kirk taking the brunt of the abuse.

The entire landing party was shocked—even Spock—when McCoy began to fight back verbally. The Doctor fumed, his face red, his fists clenched.

_“This man before you is nothing but a coward! He’s nothing! Take a good look at him, because he’s going to decimate your entire way of life! Is this the kind of leader you want? Is this what you want for your children?”_

“What the hell is he doing? Is he _trying_ to get himself killed?” Jax leapt up and pressed his face against the portal, shoving Chekov aside.

“Ensign, please keep your voice down. We do not want the crowd to hear us.” Spock’s tone was stern.

“But he’s…”

“…he’s helping my people. It’s noble.” Mak’ai’s voice was hushed reverently. “Doctor McCoy knows the peril the Xentians face too well, I’m afraid. He bore witness to Ka’al’s brutality first-hand and almost lost the Captain in the process. He understands how important this is.”

_“Is this the kind of leader you want? Do something! There’s thousands of you here. Don’t sit by and let him kill your people—your culture!”_

The away team watched as McCoy managed to break free from the guards and stood over Kirk as he yelled into the crowd. Ka’al seemed to find the whole incident amusing, for he motioned the guards back and let the Doctor preach. He stood at the side of the podium smirking as McCoy addressed the crowd.

“Mister Spock, we have to intervene. This has gone on long enough.”   Wilcox’s voice was laden with tension.

“Lieutenant, while I agree that—though noble—Doctor McCoy’s speech is not advised given his present predicament, I cannot allow for you to jeopardize the mission. We must wait for the proper time.”

Wilcox huffed, but relented. “Aye, Sir. But I hope you know what you’re doing.”

“I am confident in the mission parameters, Lieutenant. Now stand at the ready.”

The situation escalated quickly, with Ka’al’s men finally pulling the raving Doctor back and tying both him and Kirk to tall wooden stakes. It was clear the execution was moments away. Spock looked at the clock tower atop the citadel.

Ten-fifty-seven.

Ka’al continued to spin lies about Starfleet to the crowd and McCoy continued to yell, fighting to the very bitter end.

_“Don’t listen to him! He’s tricking you! If he kills us, the Federation will have no choice but to retaliate against him!”_

Chekov nervously tapped his fingertips on the door jamb next to him, having since turned his back on the spectacle in the square. It was as if he couldn’t bear to watch anymore. The voices in the town center grew louder and louder, McCoy’s getting hoarse as he screamed at the people. And just when it seemed like it was going to come to a head, the Doctor stopped mid-sentence.

“What happened? Why did he stop?” Xin was confused, and squinted as she tried to peer across the square.

“The Captain is speaking, although I cannot hear his words.”

All eyes were instantly glued on Kirk. Mak’ai turned her head to the side, in an attempt to catch the soft words coming from the young Captain’s mouth. But they went unheard, for the man’s voice was weak and feeble. The two officers spoke to one another, fear and regret in both their eyes.

Moments later, Ka’al had Kirk by the throat and once again addressed the crowd. No one spoke from the audience. The tyrant let Jim’s head snap back and turned to face the people.

“Everyone get ready. Sixty seconds to mission go.”

Ka’al bellowed while Kirk and McCoy lived what could very well be their last moments.

“Phasers set to stun, maximum setting. Do not fire upon civilians. Take Ka’al alive.”

The officers acknowledged the Vulcan with nods and the activation of their weapons.

“When we have possession of both the Captain and Doctor McCoy and Ka’al, immediately head back to the tunnel system and begin the escape. Several of Mak’ai’s warriors will assist with Ka’al’s transport.”

The clock struck eleven.

Gunfire rang out from all corners of the town center as the away team sprang out of the cistern.

 

XxX   XxX   XxX   XxX   XxX   XxX

 

 

_A/N: It’s fun to use my Russian degree to make Chekov swear. LOL Bonus points if you know what he said…and don’t use Google Translate, either._


	14. Chapter Fourteen

Shot in the Dark: Chapter Fourteen

               

                The first thing McCoy noticed was that his shackles had dropped from his wrists.

They clattered to the wooden floor of the stage, Jim’s following seconds later. The young Captain immediately fell to his knees to dodge the barrage of bullets and phaser bolts whizzing past them. He threw his arms over his head as he cowered. Leonard followed suit and ducked, wrapping his arms around both of them protectively.

“Don’t let Frank get me, Bones!”

_Oh God, not now!_

He felt Kirk’s trembling body pressed up against him, like a frightened child to his mother during a thunderstorm. McCoy had never wanted to be in a transporter beam so much in his life, even if he did hate the damn things. He’d much rather have his molecules scrambled a thousand times over if he could just get Jim out of this mess. He just wanted to be back on the ship.

Then, he felt the adrenaline begin to course through his veins. He knew he had to hold onto Jim, especially in his fragile mental state, to ensure that they both survived whatever the hell was going on. His eyes darted around the square taking in the chaos surrounding them. Warriors cursed and screamed as they shot their guns, only to have them knocked out of their hands by mobs of angry Xentians. Some innocents fell to the ground, their orange blood spilling from fresh wounds. Others whooped and hissed as they chased Ka’al’s men around until they jumped on the soldiers’ backs and forced them to surrender.

The resistance was happening.

And they were right in the middle of it.

And Jim was—somewhere else.

The Doctor pulled Kirk close. “Jim, listen to me. Frank isn’t here. We’re on Xentia, in the middle of a goddamn firefight!” He bent his own head down to try and make eye contact with Jim. “You need to snap out of this, or we’re gonna be killed!”

Kirk’s breathing was coming in short, terrified gasps. He held his hands over his ears as he cringed. “He’ll beat me again…”

_When they find Ka’al, I hope I get a crack at him._

_Jim, your brain is fried…_

_I don’t know if I can fix it…_

_I don’t know what to do._

“Jim…darlin’...”

The crowd mashed into the base of the podium, causing it to sway. Jim shrieked, pulling himself into a tighter ball. All Leonard could do was hold onto him and pray for salvation.

Shouting continued all around them and McCoy barely detected his arm being yanked. He felt the familiar claws of Xentian hands dig into his bicep and for a quick moment, he thought his freedom was short-lived.

“You must hurry!”

Looking up, McCoy came face to face with the pleading eyes of Kogas. He instinctively grabbed Jim and tugged him along as Kogas pointed towards the crowd.

“There! Your friends are right there!”

“Wha—where’s Ka’al?”

Kogas’ voice was insistent and stern. “There’s no time! He has run off like the coward that he truly is!” He rolled his eyes as he motioned towards the citadel. “Please go!”

Phaser shots—a mixture of blue and red—whizzed around the courtyard as chaos broke out. The crowd began to turn on the guards surrounding them, some taking them down with sheer force, others brandishing hidden weapons. The Graz’ Kuul-ai that weren’t caught quickly dashed into the alleys with their hands held high in surrender, denouncing Ka’al as they ran. Some villagers gave chase, shouting in their native tongue, while others stayed and took back their city.

McCoy wished he had more time to be in awe of the spectacle before him.

“Doctor McCoy!” Kogas’ tone was urgent. “Get your Captain to safety!”

Leonard scanned the crowd and quickly spotted a group of humans darting out of what appeared to be a sewage cistern. Their collective attention was split—the security team was busy methodically taking down Ka’al’s men with stunning bolts while Spock and Mak’ai immediately made a beeline for the podium. He wasn’t sure, but he could swear the Vulcan almost looked relieved to see them alive.

“C’mon, Jim! We’ve gotta haul ass!”

Kirk groaned as McCoy pulled him to his feet. He tripped as his legs began to move, threatening to tumble the pair before they ever got moving.

“Bones…what’s happening?”

McCoy looked at Jim for a brief moment, trying to ascertain if he was lucid. The emptiness in Jim’s eyes was gone, replaced by confusion. Leonard could tell by the young Captain’s expression that he was also in pain. His lips pursed, brows furrowed ever time his battered body moved. And the fluctuation of Jim’s mental state made him very nervous. There was no way to tell when another episode would rear its ugly head. He wished he had more time to make a proper medical assessment, but they didn’t have that luxury. They needed to move—fast.

“Dammit, Jim! Light a fire under it!” McCoy tugged harder on Kirk’s arm. “Now’s our chance, Ka’al split!”

Jim pushed himself upright and caught Leonard’s eyes with his own. McCoy was relieved to see the familiar “Jim Kirk sparkle” residing there once again. The confused, pained expression had been replaced by one that was fierce and determined. Whatever had plagued him moments before had been pushed deep down.

Leonard just hoped it would stay away long enough for them to escape.

“We’ve got to go after him, Bones!” Kirk tried to guide him in the opposite direction of the away team.

“Who, Ka’al? Are you out of your goddamn mind?”

Kirk ducked as a bullet flew across the stage, narrowly missing him. “He’s getting away!”

“Let him! The resistance will find him and hang onto him for us. You’re in no condition to be fighting anything—or anyone—right now!”

The minute Jim turned his attention back to Leonard, he saw it. The intense burning in the kid’s eyes signaling that he was once again going to put himself in harm’s way.

And McCoy was damned if he was going to let that happen.

“You’re not going…end of story!” McCoy yanked Jim forcefully by the arm, instantly regretting it when Kirk yelped in pain. But the Doctor didn’t have time to feel bad for it. He needed to get their asses to safety—and back to the ship.

“Captain! Doctor!” Spock’s voice carried over the commotion in the square. He bounded up the steps of the platform, Mak’ai hot on his heels. “We must move hastily. The situation grows more dangerous by the moment.”

“See, Jim? I can’t believe I’m doing this, but I agree with Spock!” McCoy tugged again.

Jim’s eyes seemed to relent and his head drooped. “Alright…you’re both right.”

They all jumped from the podium and disappeared into the chaotic crowd. Bumping into natives as they pushed their way through back to the escape door, Leonard couldn’t help but be happy that the resistance was finally happening. Yes, innocent people would more than likely lose their lives today, but it would be to save their culture—and their children. He was proud to be a part of it, even though he was scared shitless.

They moved closer to the doorway, resistance members and townsfolk alike moving aside for them as they fled. Not one of them grabbed for the officers. Instead, they allowed them safe passage through the fracas. As they neared salvation, they were met with a friendly, albeit urgent-sounding, voice.

“Sir, glad to see you’re in one piece!” Jax offered a smile seconds before he shot a searing blast into the crowd. “Hurry, into the tunn—“

A bullet pierced his chest, blood staining his shirt seconds later. The Ensign fell to the ground in a heap, his hands still clutching his phaser. Kirk dashed to his side and knelt, scooping him up into his arms. He applied pressure to the oozing wound with a free hand as he attempted to cradle the officer’s head in his lap.

“Listen to me, Jax. Concentrate on my voice! You’re going to be just fine, you hear me?”

The young Ensign’s lips trembled as he struggled to breathe. Droplets of blood spattered into the air every time he spluttered out a shaky breath. The position of the growing red stain on his shirt was directly over his heart. Even without a Tricorder, McCoy knew the kid had minutes—if that.

And he knew there was nothing he could do to help him in this shit situation.

“S-sir…” Jax managed a feeble smile as his life left him.

McCoy was grateful it had been quick.

Jim stared down at the dead officer in his arms. “Jax?” He shook him gently at first, but when he didn’t get a response he began to use more force. “Jax? Don’t do this!”

“Jim…we have to go!” McCoy knelt down beside the pair, keeping one eye on the crowd. He could see soldiers approaching. And they looked pissed. Townsfolk were beginning to swarm around them, but he didn’t know if they would be able to keep the guards at bay. “Jim! C’mon we have to leave him!”

Kirk looked up to him with pleading, moist eyes. It was apparent from the way he clutched Jax’ body to his chest that they’d have one hell of a time getting him to let go.

“We don’t have time to dwell, Jim! We need to get out of here!”

Jim licked his dry lips and looked down at Jax. He solemnly drew his palm over the officer’s eyes, closing them. Very carefully, he laid his body down on the ground.

_Thank God, he’s actually listening to me for once._

_Now we can get the hell out of here._

Kirk pushed himself up off the ground. He looked quickly at both McCoy and Spock before bending down to grab Jax’ discarded weapon. He checked the charge and set the phaser to kill. Without a single word, he began to move back towards the crowd.

McCoy wanted to throttle him.

Spock began to reach towards the Captain, in an attempt to stop him. “Captain, we must hurry back into the tunnel system. Our window for extract is very small.”

Kirk is whirled around and yanked his arm from Spock’s grip, eyes burning with anger and hurt. “I’m going after Ka’al! His goons killed another one of my men! I have to be the one to apprehend him!”

“Jim, calm down!” McCoy accepted a Tricorder that Xin had handed him and began to scan Kirk. His vital signs were fluctuating wildly. He knew if he didn’t get Jim back to the ship—and soon—he ran the risk of undoing all the treatments McCoy had cobbled together back in their cell. Not to mention the real possibility that his mental state could deteriorate again. The episodes were coming more frequently now, and with every time, Leonard was afraid he would never get Jim back again.

Spock interjected as he tried to guide Kirk back to the cistern. “Sir, I believe the situation at hand coupled with your injuries is clouding your judgment. We need to move now.”

“Listen to him, Jim! We need to get back to the ship. You need medical attention that I can’t give you down here! Let N’Jal and her troops deal with this!”

Kirk pleaded with them as he pointed to the resistance members in the crowd. “But they need our help!”

“Captain, the resistance members are fully capable of taking on this task.”

“I can’t just leave! We owe them!”

McCoy grabbed Kirk by the shoulders. “You’re leaping without looking again, dammit! Let them handle this!” Kirk tried to wrench himself away, but Leonard held firm. “It’s not our fight anymore! If we don’t leave _right now_ , Ka’al’s men might capture us again!”

_I’m not watching them brutalize you anymore._

_I saved you twice now…_

_…I don’t know if I can do it again._

“Jim, did you hear me?”

Jim contorted his body to remove himself from McCoy’s grasp. “Let go of me, Bones! I have to do this.”

“No you don’t!”

Kirk steeled himself and tore away from McCoy. Before Leonard could reach out for him again, Jim had darted back into the crowd, heading towards the fortress. Spock, Chekov and Mak’ai barreled in after him.

There was nothing left for McCoy to do except follow them, screaming his head off the entire time for Jim to stop.

 

XxX   XxX   XxX   XxX  XxX   XxX

 

The interior of the citadel was utterly destroyed.

Gone were the beautifully ornate tapestries, stained glass windows and art. It seemed that Ka’al had disposed of any trace of Xentia’s once grand culture. Even though they were running through the halls at a blistering pace, McCoy still had time to notice the destruction.

The wall-hangings had been shredded; most of them left hanging in their destroyed state. Shattered colored glass crunched beneath their feet. Vases and statues lay in pieces on the floor everywhere they looked.

Nothing was left of Luuk-ti’s legacy.

In the months that Ka’al had been in power, it was obvious that he hadn’t even bothered to have the messes cleaned up. Left as a reminder of what he was capable of, no doubt. Or sheer laziness. McCoy couldn’t be sure which.

The team stopped as Jim silently held up a hand. He motioned for them all to stay back as he peeked his head around a corner. Immediately pulling back, he ushered them into a small recess in the hall as a group of Ka’al’s men rushed by them, firing wildly back down the corridor. Within seconds, resistance members were hot on their heels, shooting their own weapons after the soldiers.

Kirk turned to Mak’ai. “Where do you think Ka’al ran off to?”

“More than likely his private chambers. If I had to guess, I would think they would be the same rooms that Luuk-ti called his own.” Her eyes saddened at the mention of the Shaman as she pointed down the corridor. “Down that hallway and into the atrium. Then up the staircase.”

_The atrium._

_Bullets flying again._

_No…_

“I’m assuming the doors will be on lockdown?”

“Possibly. But all his warriors seem to be fleeing, so there’s a good chance it will be unprotected.” Mak’ai shifted her weight on her haunches. “But don’t let your guard down. The Graz’ Kuul-ai are unpredictable, especially now.”

Jim nodded and peeked around the corner once more. “They’re gone. C’mon, let’s get moving. I won’t let him get away.”

McCoy noticed the determination in both Kirk’s voice and expression. Knowing that they would be crossing the same room where Jim nearly lost his life the first time they set foot in this building, he could feel bile rising in his throat. He didn’t want to go into that damn atrium. In fact, he wanted to pull Jim by the collar and drag him back to the extraction site. But, he knew that there was no way Kirk would ever comply. When he set his mind to something, there was nothing—save a hypo filled with sedatives—that would make his resolve leave him. He gripped his hand tightly around his Tricorder and reluctantly followed the group into the fray.

They rushed in and out of small service corridors that crisscrossed the huge building. McCoy had never been so lost in his life. He was thankful that Mak’ai was at point with Jim, showing him where to go. The team stopped again, this time participating in a small gun battle blocking their path. The Doctor was beyond relieved when both Mak’ai and Spock forcefully pulled Kirk back, forcing him to sit well back from danger.

It was then McCoy realized exactly where they were. He looked at the wooden door in front of him, then to the atrium just off to the side at the end of the hallway. Swallowing hard, he willed himself not to panic.

The room where he had first treated Jim was inches away. Just behind the worn door. And Jim was sitting right up against it. He looked down at the floor, and was horrified to see dark crimson stains dried onto the cobblestones.

_He has no idea where we are._

_At least I don’t think so._

_Do I ever tell him how scared I was?_

_Do I tell him how afraid I was he wasn’t even going to make it out of the room?_

_Or how the life drained from his body right in front of my eyes…and onto the floor?_

Leonard took a deep breath. He knew he needed to keep Kirk calm, not rile him up more. Spilling his guts out in a warzone wouldn’t do either of them any good. Besides, Jim knew his feelings on what happened the last time they graced the surface of Xentia—mostly. They really had never talked about those first critical moments after Kirk’s injury. Most of their conversations had focused on what happened in Mak’ai’s house and their escape.

No, he wasn’t going to dredge this up again.

He diverted his attention from the door; this inanimate object that he decided would not have any hold over him. They would be safe soon, and he’d never have to see it again. The door was a piece of the past, and soon Xentia would be as well.

McCoy knelt close to Jim, taking this bit of time to scan his vitals. No surprise to him, they were fluctuating wildly. He looked into his eyes, the pupils dilated so much they almost completely overtook the blue. McCoy laid a hand on Jim’s trembling forearm. “Jim, you need to calm down. You’re shaking because the adrenaline in your body is reaching dangerous levels.”

“I’m not leaving without him, if that’s what you’re getting at.” Kirk averted his attention, focusing on the officers firing.

“I know.” McCoy’s voice was quiet and defeated. He knew a fight wasn’t worth his energy right now. Jim wouldn’t listen to him even if he begged him—which he had already anyway.

Kirk looked up at McCoy’s admission. “You mean you’re not going to lecture me?”

“I know it won’t do any good. Besides, this isn’t the time or the place.” He pressed his fingers against the vein in Kirk’s wrist, counting the beats in his head. “I’m speaking as a physician right now, because I know if I start to think like your partner, I’ll fly off the handle.”

Jim lowered his head and took some deep breaths.

“Good, just like that. Calm yourself, alright?” McCoy removed his fingers from Kirk’s arm and placed his hand on the young Captain’s shoulder. “I’m your CMO right now, nothing else. Listen to me. I’m advising you to leave based on your current medical condition. You’ve had major field surgery in the last thirty-six hours and are suffering from the ill effects of an alien mind device. Not to mention the countless physical beatings you’ve endured since we were captured.”

“I’m not leaving…and you said you weren’t going to lecture me.” Kirk began to rise from his seated position, the gunfire in the hall next to them reaching fevered activity.

McCoy grabbed his arm and forced him down. He could feel heat flushing over his cheeks and he knew he was going to yell. “Well, I changed my mind! Listen to me for once in your life. A minute ago I was your doctor…now I’m speaking as your lover.”

Kirk stared at him with bloodshot eyes. “You promised you weren’t going to…”

“I _promised_ no such thing!” He steeled his jaw. “I’m not leaving here with you in a body bag.”

“You won’t have to. We’re going to find him and take him into custody.”

McCoy pursed his lips. “And what makes you think he’ll go easily? That he won’t kill you the second you barge into his rooms? He’s probably waiting in there with a gun pointed at the door right now!”

Kirk pushed away from him and stood. “That’s a risk I’m willing to take. He can’t get away with this, Bones!”

McCoy just looked at him dumbfounded. He didn’t have any energy left to fight. His voice was quiet, almost drowned out by the surrounding battle. “Just once I’d like you to listen to me.”

Kirk responded silently, his eyes filled with emotion. McCoy could tell he was torn—between duty and love. And he hated seeing him this way. He hated making Jim choose. Even though he wanted to be firm, to threaten Jim until he saw the light, he knew it wouldn’t make a difference. No matter how much Jim loved him, his duty to Starfleet would always take precedence. After all, he was a Kirk—and Kirks never lost.

“I just can’t let these people die, Bones. And he’ll kill every last one of them that opposes him if we leave without taking him down.” Jim licked his dry lips. “But don’t think for one minute that I don’t love you with my entire soul. I know that I don’t always show it, but I…”

“Captain! We are ready to move again!” Spock’s voice cut through the tension between the two men.

Kirk smiled briefly and bounded up to the front lines, taking command yet again as he led the team forward.

McCoy just sighed and followed, hoping against hope that Jim would be able to finish his sentiment in the safety of the _Enterprise._

He gave the door a swift kick on his way past, his boot leaving a dusty footprint on the slats.

 

XxX   XxX   XxX   XxX XxX  XxX

 

 

Leonard could barely make Jim out as he ran through the halls, darting into corridors and up staircases. He tried to keep up, hoping that Kirk’s already weekend and battered body wouldn’t give out on him. Knowing that Jim must have been running on pure adrenaline, McCoy was worried that at some point Jim’s heart would stop and then they’d be in a world of hurt.

As they continued their march through the building, they passed countless members of the Graz’ Kuul-ai. Most were fleeing for their lives, having thrown down their weapons. Resistance members combed through the halls looking for stragglers. A few put up a fight, but were easily subdued by the retrofitted phasers and subdued for imprisonment.

_At least the bastards aren’t putting up much of a fight._

_I guess they knew Ka’al was a coward all along._

They ran up the grand staircase at the back of the atrium, Jim stumbling every few steps as he raced upwards. A pained grunt fell from his lips as he hauled himself up the stairs. McCoy wanted to yell for Kirk to stop his quest for vengeance and to turn around, but he knew his pleas would fall on deaf ears. There was no way Jim was going to listen to him.

Not until he had Ka’al.

As they crested the top of the grand staircase, a group of several Graz’ Kuul-ai warriors were blocking a set of large wooden doors. McCoy was pretty sure it was Ka’al’s sanctuary. The guards immediately began firing upon the party, bullets flying down hall and ricocheting off of the walls. Chips of the metallic stone rained down on the group. Everyone took cover, either darting behind a statue that had actually survived Ka’al’s tyranny or into small alcoves that once housed giant decorative vases.

Xin, hobbling slightly on her field-bandaged leg, ducked behind the remnants of a wooden chest, peeking out from the sides to fire precisely aimed shots. Two of the four guards fell instantly, quivering on the floor as their stunned nervous systems tried to reboot. Their counterparts looked down at them with fear in their eyes.

“Stand down or suffer the same fate as your comrades!” Spock’s voice was stern.

Without hesitation, the two remaining men threw down their weapons and put their hands high in the air. They dropped to their knees and placed their hands on their heads.

Keeping her weapon trained on them both, Xin motioned for the party to move forward. The rest of the officers, with Kirk on point, ran down the hall to the submissive soldiers. Jim immediately grabbed one by the scruff of the neck, yanking his head backwards.

McCoy recognized him as one of the warriors who had thrown Jim back into his cell after one of Ka’al’s torture sessions. He didn’t know if Kirk would remember or not.

For his sake—and the sake of the Xentian—he hoped he wouldn’t.

“Where’s Ka’al?” Jim’s eyes seethed with fury, his voice laden with venom. Redness flushed over his cheeks as he snarled.

“M-master Ka’al has—“

Jim wrenched his head forward and kneed him in the chin. Orange blood immediately began to drip from the nostrils of his newly-broken nose.

“ _Where is he?”_ Kirk’s voice echoed off the walls, startling the members of the away team. The ferocity in his tone was something McCoy had never heard before.

The other soldier pointed feebly at the door behind them. “Th-there…he is in there.”

Jim pushed his captive to his feet and began to tug on the door handles. They were locked. Without hesitating, he pointed his weapon at the doorknob and melted the entire mechanism with a crimson shot. The smoldering leftover slag fell to the floor.

With Spock and Wilcox flanking him on either side, Kirk burst through the door.

A single shot rang out.


	15. Chapter Fifteen

Shot in the Dark: Chapter Fifteen

                Spock fell to the ground.

Ka’al sat behind his desk, a smoking pistol resting on the wooden top. Within seconds, and without giving the tyrant any time to reload his weapon, Wilcox stunned him. Ka’al slumped to the side, his eyes shaking in their sockets, his long reptilian tongue hanging out of the corner of his mouth.

Lieutenant Xin had grabbed Kirk and pulled him to the side as soon as the shot had rang out, and she kept him at bay with strong arm and a stern glance. He didn’t seem to be hurt, but one couldn’t be sure. After all—it was Jim Kirk.

McCoy didn’t know what to do first—or who to attend to.

He looked down to his left, at Spock. The Vulcan held his palm firmly over his abdomen, green blood staining his shirt and dripping onto the floor. His eyes were closed, his breathing calm and deep.

McCoy’s attention went back to Jim at his right, struggling to get out of Xin’s hold. His face was red with a mixture of fury and concern, his fingers gripping tightly around the handle of his phaser.   She held fast, unwilling to release her Captain until the threat of danger was no longer present.

Finally, his eyes rested again on Ka’al—drooling and trembling as his body slowly slid from his seat. For a brief moment, McCoy felt like laughing at him. Technology never ceased to amaze him. In the span of a few milliseconds, he had been reduced to a quivering heap, no longer the man of power he had believed himself to be.

Thinking quickly, he decided to let Xin handle Jim and move to Spock. He dashed to the First Officer’s side and immediately began emergency triage. Admittedly, his knowledge of Vulcan physiology was limited. He began to panic when he saw that Spock held his stomach tightly on the left side.

_His heart?_

_No…that’s on the right._

_Thank God._

“Spock, where are you hit?”

The Vulcan looked up at him, his already pale complexion losing pigment by the second. “I have been hit in the abdomen, Doctor.” He swayed slightly and McCoy grabbed onto him at the shoulders. “I do not believe my injury is life-threatening.”

“I’ll tell you when you’re injury is severe or not, dammit!” He eased Spock back against the wall and helped him sit. Lifting his shirt, he inspected the wound on his left side. It oozed swiftly, each beat of Spock’s heart pumping the liquid out onto his skin. McCoy held his palm against the hole and applied pressure. Spock never grimaced.

“Doctor, if you are capable of fashioning a field bandage, I will be able to return to the ship under my own power.”

“Don’t tell me how to do my job, you pointy-eared bastard!”

Even in his weakened state, Spock managed to quirk a questioning eyebrow. “I was not attempting to usurp your position. I was merely suggesting…”

“Just shut up, okay?” McCoy tore at the hem of Spock’s shirt. He folded the cloth into a tight square and held it firmly against the wound. Looking around, he spotted a tattered tapestry on the wall next to them. It wasn’t the cleanest thing around, but long enough to be used as a tie for the bandage. He stood and quickly ripped it lengthwise, releasing a long strip. Scooting back to Spock’s side, he reached around and fastened the long piece around his midsection, pulling it tight and tying the excess fabric in a knot.

Spock looked down at the treatment. “Thank you, Doctor. Your bandage is more than adequate. I will require further medical intervention once we return to the _Enterprise_ , but I am confident I will survive.”

McCoy furrowed his brows. “Well, you’d better not die on me, or Uhura will skin me alive.”

“I do not see how removing your outermost dermal layer would serve as punishment for my death.”

“Yeah, you’re going to be just fine.” He checked the bandage one more time. Satisfied Spock would live to annoy him for another day, he turned his attention back to Jim.

“Let me go, Xin!” Kirk was clambering to get around her, but she stood her ground. Ka’al was beginning to stir on the floor, and it was apparent that Jim did not want to let him have the chance to strike again. “We can’t let him get away with all of this!”

Before McCoy could intervene, Mak’ai went to Jim’s side. Laying a hand on his arm, she pressed her scaly forehead against his. Her voice was soothing. “Captain, you will get your chance to say—or do—whatever you need to him. But now is the time to be calm.”

Kirk seemed to relax slightly under her touch, but still trembled with anger and nervous energy. “Fine. Wilcox, Chekov—drag him to his miserable feet and tie him up. He’s got a date with Starfleet.”

The two officers hauled the giant man back into his chair and tied his hands to the armrests with ropes pilfered from the ornate drapes. Wilcox fastened a rope around his neck, reminiscent of a leash. Xin, no longer in control of her Captain, took a sentry post at the door. She would see to it that no one got through.

McCoy left Spock’s side and joined them. He took out his Tricorder and scanned the Captain. Jim was going downhill, fast. His heart rate was erratic, blood pressure skyrocketing and his electrical brain activity was haywire. He laid a comforting hand on Jim’s back.

“Listen to me, you need to calm down. I’m afraid that you’ll send yourself into shock if you don’t steady.”

Jim looked at him with steeled eyes.   “I’m fine, Bones.”

“Like hell you are! Look!” He showed him the medical readout.

Jim ignored him and straightened his posture. He approached his officers, flanking a groggy Ka’al on either side. The warmonger looked at him, sneering. Before Kirk could speak, Mak’ai came up behind him and pulled him back.

“I want to speak to him first. Please.”

Jim looked at her questioningly for a moment as he contemplated her request. McCoy could see by the look in his eyes that he was torn. He knew Jim wanted to confront Ka’al, but he also understood how important it was for Mak’ai to get her feelings off her chest. After a long moment, Jim stepped back and motioned for her to proceed.

“Don’t get too close.”

Mak’ai nodded and moved forward towards the captive tyrant. He hissed at her, long tongue slithering across his thin lips. She stopped just out of striking distance.

“I thought I would feel different when you were finally in custody.” She inhaled deeply through her nose. “But now that you’re right here in front of me, I honestly don’t know what to do.”

She took a few tentative steps towards him, recoiling slightly as he lunged his upper body forward. The ties around his wrists strained against his strength. Wilcox yanked back on the rope around his neck, and Ka’al gasped as it tightened.

“Do you remember a man named Amari?”

The warmonger narrowed his eyes. His speech was slurred, an effect of the stun bolt. “He was…a pawn. A weakling…who was easy…to control. I…enjoyed making…an example of him.”

“He was my brother!” Mak’ai spit in his face. “You took his life, when it did not belong to you!”

“He willingly…joined. He was mine…to do with…as I saw fit.”

“And you think that just because he joined your group that it gave you the right to take advantage of a severely mentally impaired individual?”

McCoy’s suspicions had been confirmed. From how Mak’ai had spoken of her brother, he surmised that he was more than just “slow.” Hearing her describe him as she just had, his heart broke more for both her family and the families of others that Ka’al had destroyed.

“You used him because you knew he would never fight back. That he would never question your authority!” She clenched her fists at her sides. “I want to strike you so badly. To feel my hand make contact with your pathetic face, to feel your blood underneath my fingertips.”

Ka’al just smirked at her.

“But I’m not going to give you the satisfaction of seeing me fly off the handle like that.” She moved even closer, hovering inches from Ka’al’s face. He strained against the restraints, unable to move more than a centimeter.

“You’re garbage.” Mak’ai’s lips curled, exposing her razor-sharp teeth. “You may be a Xentian by blood, but that doesn’t make you one of us. You don’t have the right to call yourself a Child of the Goddesses.”

Spinning on her heels, she walked away from him, never uttering another word. As she passed Kirk, she reached down and squeezed his hand briefly. She finally took a seat in the corner of the room, drawing a calm, deep breath.

Lightning flashed in the distance.

Ka’al began to stir more in his chair, obviously uncomfortable with the restraints around his wrists. He grimaced as he pulled at them.

The crack of thunder accompanying the lightning bolt shook the citadel, sending a shock wave through the room. Everyone jumped.

Especially Kirk.

Within seconds his skin paled and he began to shake. Jim held his head in his hands, his breathing becoming erratic as he stooped over. The young Captain’s knuckles turned white as he dug his fingernails into his scalp.

_Oh shit._

_It’s happening again._

McCoy recognized the warning signs. Not only was Jim more than likely suffering an episode from the effects of Tazan’s machine, but he was showing telltale signs of Post-Traumatic Stress Syndrome. And those were two things they neither had time for or that Jim’s body could handle.

Kirk’s back stiffened as he let go of his head. As he stood erect once more, McCoy could see the fury burning in his eyes.

Jim’s voice was monotone. “Untie him.”

“Captain, that is highly illogical.” Spock’s voice, quieter than usual but still stern, echoed from behind them. “He is still capable of killing you.”

“Spock’s right, Jim.” Leonard grabbed onto his bicep and attempted to pull him away. “You don’t have to prove anything.”

“Wilcox, untie him. That’s an order.” Jim’s tone was like steel. “And don’t you dare try and stop me, Bones. Or I’ll demote you.”

_You wouldn’t._

_I know you better than that._

_But I know you’re hurting._

_I don’t know what to do._

McCoy stood silently, finally letting go of Kirk’s arm. His heart sunk as Ka’al’s restraints fell to the ground. He didn’t want to see Jim hurt—again. He didn’t know if he would be able to keep saving him.

“Jim…please…” Leonard’s voice was barely above a whisper. He doubted Kirk heard him anyway.

Ka’al shifted in his seat, still reeling from the effects of the stun shot. He tried to get up, only to have his legs buckle. Jim took the advantage Ka’al’s new position granted him and kneed the tyrant in the abdomen. Both men grunted from the impact. Kirk swayed before striking him once more in the stomach.

Ka’al struggled to get to his feet, finally managing to do so by bracing his weight on the desk. Wilcox and Chekov immediately moved to grab him, but were waved off by the Captain. “Let him fight me like a man!”

McCoy activated his Tricorder again, running a continual scan on Jim’s vitals.

“Come on, dammit! Show me how strong you are!” Jim taunted Ka’al, punching at the air in front of the tyrant.

“You dare try and…take me on?” Ka’al smirked, baring his teeth. His movements were slow. “I will…enjoy killing you in front of…your men. And your lover…”

Ka’al stumbled before charging at Jim, wrapping his arms around the Captain. He pushed him against the back wall, Jim yelping in pain as his back impacted with the stones. McCoy dashed to their sides, desperately trying to pry Ka’al’s hands from Jim’s body.

“Bones, get back!’ Kirk’s voice was pained. “This is my fight!”

“Dammit, Jim! He’s gonna kill you!” McCoy was pushed backwards onto his rear end by Ka’al’s mighty arm.

Strong hands gripped McCoy’s arms as Spock hauled him to his feet. “Doctor, he will not listen to you. I believe his mental state has deteriorated to the point that he is no longer in control of his actions.” The Vulcan groaned slightly as he applied pressure to his wound. “As painful as it may be for you to watch, we will not be able to sway Captain Kirk’s decision. He will not allow us to interfere, even if we had wanted to.”

Spock was right, of course. McCoy knew Jim was too far gone to listen to reason. He knew that they would end up dragging Kirk back to the ship—and probably not under his own power.

He knew there was a good chance that this would end badly.

And _he knew_ there was nothing he could do to stop it.

The Tricorder beeped as Jim’s heart rate and blood pressure shot up. McCoy feared that the injuries he had barely managed to heal in the prison would rear their ugly heads again and take Jim from him. There was a real possibility of Kirk going into shock.

“Jim…calm down! Your vitals are unstable!”

Kirk clawed at Ka’al’s face, the soldier screaming as Jim’s fingers found their way into his eyes. Still feeling the effects of the stun, Ka’al wobbled backwards before falling to his knees. Kirk took advantage of his vulnerability and scrambled towards him. Within seconds, Ka’al’s head was being slammed against the heavy wooden desk. Orange blood began to drip down the front panels.

Jim’s face was red as he groaned with every strike he landed. Beads of sweat rolled down from his hairline and into the collar of his shirt. His knuckles began to bleed as he hit Ka’al over and over again, orange blood mixing with crimson.

The Tricorder blared louder, signaling that Kirk’s statistics were nearing critical.

_Jim…_

_He’s not worth it…_

_He’s not worth your life…_

Jim moaned as he dragged Ka’al to his feet, his muscles bulging under his thin garment. The veins in his neck protruded from the strain.

Ka’al laughed as he was manhandled. “You have proven…that you’re a coward, James Kirk. You only had the…bravery to fight me…when I was weakened!”

Jim’s lips curled into a snarl. He rammed the soldier against the cobblestone wall, his scaled head hitting with tremendous force. A few of the spines on his scalp cracked off, clattering to the floor.

“You killed Amari and hundreds of innocent Xentians!” He punched Ka’al in the gut with a grunt. “You almost killed my CMO and me…twice!” He landed another strike, this time to the tyrant’s chest. Ka’al gasped as the air was forced from his lungs. “You killed three of my crew members!”

Ka’al laughed, followed by a raspy cough. “You are mistaken, _Captain._ It’s a pity that…only _two_ of your men died…at the hands of my warriors. I would have loved to see…more Federation blood spilled.”

Jim’s face turned scarlet as he punched Ka’al right between the eyes. “Three men! You forget the shuttle pilot!”

“Oh yes…the poor fool. Did your pathetic crew really think…they could send a shuttlecraft down? Without it…being destroyed?” Ka’al began to try and stand up straight. Blood dripped from his mouth and stained what was left of his teeth.

Kirk began to tremble, his breathing coming in short gasps. McCoy’s Tricorder screeched a critical warning. Jim’s heart was beating three times faster than it should ever beat, his blood pressure double the norm. His body was dangerously close to shock.

In an instant, he had snatched his discarded phaser from the table. McCoy desperately tried to grab it out of his hands, but Jim wrenched it away. The Captain pointed it right at Ka’al’s face.

“Are you scared?” His eyes narrowed as he moved closer, Ka’al backing up against the wall. His movements were still very sluggish, his limbs seeming heavy and unwilling to cooperate. It appeared that he had no energy left to fight back.

Ka’al just stood there.

“Jim, you can’t kill him! He needs to get back to Earth alive, to pay for his crimes!”

Kirk pushed McCoy aside with such force that he fell to his backside. He could do nothing but watch as Jim curled his finger around the trigger.

“Your reign of terror ends right here.”

The red bolt flew from the end of the weapon and vaporized the entire top half of Ka’al’s head. What was left of his smoldering brain and skull smoked as his body fell.

Jim collapsed, eyes rolling within their sockets. The phaser skittered away from him and under the desk. McCoy had seconds to catch him before his head hit the ground.

“Jim!” He carefully laid Kirk on the floor and tried to get a scan. His vital signs were chaotic. He looked up to Spock. “We’ve gotta get him out of here! His heart is beating so fast he’s gonna send himself into arrest!”

As soon as the words left his mouth, Jim’s cardiac activity plummeted. The Tricorder screamed, more warning lights flashing than McCoy had ever seen.

Seconds later, Jim’s heart stopped.

“Dammit! Spoke too soon!” He thumped his hands on Kirk’s chest in a desperate plea to his lover. “Don’t you dare do this to me, you son of a bitch!”

Chekov rushed to their side. “Iz zere anything I can help vith, Doktor?” His eyes were fearful.

McCoy’s gaze left Jim long enough to bark orders to the young Ensign. “We’re going to have to do CPR. You remember your rudimentary medical training, right?”

“Aye.” Chekov licked his lips in anticipation.

“Good. You breathe two hard breaths after I do thirty compressions. Pinch his nose shut.” McCoy looked to Spock before starting. “Find us some way back to the ship! He doesn’t have much time before his brain is deprived of too much oxygen!”

The Doctor began strong chest compressions, his fingers linked together just above Jim’s sternum. He began counting off for Chekov as his hands moved, barely hearing Spock’s voice attempting to contact the ship.

“ _Enterprise,_ are the transporters functioning? We are in need of a critical medical evac.”

Scotty’s voice crackled on the weak signal. _“Aye, Sir! But I cannae guarantee you’d make it back in one piece! The approaching storm might scramble your molecules and materialize you on the pad as haggis!”_

McCoy didn’t give Spock a chance to answer the Engineer. He screamed across the room while Chekov blew his breaths into Kirk’s lungs. “Dammit, we don’t have a choice! The Captain is dying!”

_“The Captain? Ach…I’ll try and boost the signal as much as I can!”_

The Doctor resumed his compressions, the officers and Mak’ai looking on in horror as he tried to save Jim.

“Give me a minute to get him breathing again. Be ready to energize the second I say to!”

He looked down at Jim, lifeless underneath his hands. With each compression, Kirk’s body rocked on the floor. His blue eyes stared up at the ceiling.

_You can’t do this to me._

_Not again…_

_I won’t let you leave me alone._

“Breathe again, Ensign!” McCoy was barely aware that he had yelled out another instruction. It was as if he was on autopilot. He quickly glanced at the Tricorder readout, scowling as the heart rate line refused to bounce. He watched as Chekov’s cheeks puffed out with air as he blew into Kirk’s mouth. Jims’ chest rose slightly as his lungs filled. When the scanner read no change, he resumed his assault on Kirk’s torso.

He was not going to allow Jim to die today.

“You’re going to live, damn you! You’re not dying in front of your officers!”

_You’re not dying in front of me…_

_Please…_

Screaming at the silent Captain as he worked, he felt a crack underneath his palms. He had broken one of Kirk’s ribs. He knew that meant he was doing the compressions right, but it still bothered him to be causing more pain.

Pain he hoped Jim would stick around to feel.

Just as his world seemed to lose its light as Jim’s body began to cool under his hands, the Tricorder beeped. He looked down just long enough to see a blip on the line.

Jim’s heart was responding.

Now he just had to keep it going.

“That’s it, Jim! C’mon back!” He wiped his hand across his sweaty brow. The room was silent, all eyes glued to Kirk.

The Doctor kept his eyes locked on the Tricorder, watching as Kirk’s heart began to beat stronger and with more frequency. A few seconds later, it had settled into a steady, albeit weak, rhythm. Jim’s chest began to rise with ragged breaths as his eyes fluttered closed.

_Thank God._

_Don’t you ever do that to me again…_

_Now you’ve got to fight._

“Get us back to the ship!” McCoy scooped Jim up into his lap, resting his head on his thighs. He cradled Jim in his arms, wishing he could just bend down right there and kiss him.

_Fuck this._

_Fuck protocol._

_I love him…_

Leonard leaned over and pressed his lips against Kirk’s forehead. No one in the room even noticed. And if they did, not a word was uttered.

Spock’s voice filtered through the chamber as he signaled the _Enterprise._

The room seemed to close in on McCoy, the only thing mattering being the man in his lap, fighting for his life—yet again. He almost didn’t notice Mak’ai coming up behind him. She gently kissed the top of his head.

Scotty’s voice crackled from Spock’s communicator. _“Thirty seconds to transport! How many, Sir?”_

The Vulcan steadied himself on Ka’al’s desk. “Seven, Mister Scott.”

Mak’ai spoke up. “Mister Spock, I am going to stay behind. I will ensure that Ka’al’s body is disposed of properly. Besides, I need to see to it that N’Jal and our resistance band get the help they will undoubtedly need. There is a long road ahead for my people.”

“We can never thank you enough for all you have done, Mak’ai.” The Vulcan spoke into his communicator once again.   “Mister Scott, change the parameters to accept six to transport.”

_“Aye, Sir. Fifteen seconds.”_

She leaned down close to McCoy’s ear. “Take care of him, Leonard. I will see you both very soon, I promise.” She moved back, out of range.

“You make sure of that, Missy. Doctor’s orders.” He craned his neck to look at her once more with a smile as he felt the beam of the transporter take him.


	16. Shot in the Dark: Chapter Sixteen

Shot in the Dark: Chapter Sixteen

                McCoy hated the way the transporter made him feel.

It took him a moment to get his bearings, trying desperately to shake the fog from his brain. He swayed on the pad under Jim’s weight. It felt as if suddenly the younger man weighed a ton. As the fuzz in front of his eyes abated and he got his balance back, he instinctively wrapped his arms tighter around Kirk.

_“Son, please help me…”_

Leonard’s spine tingled, the tiny hairs on his body standing on end. He pinched his eyes shut and shook his head quickly to try and dissipate the strange-yet-familiar voice echoing in his mind. He didn’t have time for this.

He didn’t want to succumb the way Jim had.

He wouldn’t.

Looking down at Kirk’s unconscious form, he was immediately pulled back into the world at-large, instantaneously aware of the bustle of the transporter room—the waiting medical team, the technician breathing a sigh of relief, the away team members scurrying off the pad to make room for the other physicians.

He turned his attention to his left, where Spock was being helped off the pad by M’Benga’s capable hands. McCoy knew the First Officer had the authority in Vulcan medical knowledge guiding him to the hover-stretcher, and he never doubted for one second that Spock wouldn’t be up and annoying him in no time.

Sweat began to bead on his forehead, his body trembling. He felt chilled to the bone, yet his cheeks flushed crimson with heat. He gripped Jim’s shoulders tighter, his knuckles turning white as his hands shook.

_“Please Leonard…”_

_Not here._

_Not now._

“Doctor McCoy, you need to let go of the Captain.”

He felt a hand on his back, urging him to release Kirk. A figure knelt next to him, easing an arm underneath Jim’s neck and shoulders. Still half immersed in the miasma of his brain, he reluctantly allowed her to step in and help.

As if in slow motion, he watched as the nurses lifted Jim onto the stretcher, folding his arms neatly over his abdomen. The Doctor pushed himself to his feet and stumbled forward, briefly needing the support of Chekov as he tried to step in and resume Kirk’s treatment.

“Doktor, perhaps you should vait?” The young Ensign’s face was creased with worry as he grabbed onto McCoy’s bicep to balance him. “You seem…unsteady.”

“I’m fine.” McCoy brushed Chekov’s hand aside. “Just a little fuzzy from the beam-out, that’s all.”

_I hope._

He took a deep breath and released the maglocks on the stretcher, allowing it to glide effortlessly out of the transporter room. He was glad he had it to lean on. M’Benga was right behind him, Spock having already placed himself in a healing trance.

“Get me a continuous scan of the Captain’s vitals. I want cardio readouts, blood oxygen levels, brain activity—everything. He had a short episode of cardiac arrest down on the planet before transport, and I want to make sure his heart wasn’t damaged.” He laid a hand on Jim’s shoulder as they walked down the corridor. “He’s also under the influence of a mind-altering device, so I don’t know how normal treatments will affect him. We’re going to have to take this slow and by the books.”

The nurses alongside the gurney nodded, all three of them uttering a unison, “Yes, Doctor.”

“As soon as we get to Sick Bay I want him on a trauma bed. Start at least two lines for fluids; I’m pretty sure he’s dehydrated.”

_Me too._

_Goddamn I could use a drink._

_And not water, either…_

The doors to Medical swooshed open and the bright lights immediately burned McCoy’s eyes. He squinted, hoping that would provide some relief. He guided the stretcher towards an empty exam bay and eased it to a halt next to the biobed. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw M’Benga do the same with Spock, moving to occupy the pod next to him.

McCoy, along with the nurses, gently moved Jim onto the waiting bed. He was worried by Kirk’s lack of movements or response. Jim felt like a limp rag doll in his hands.

_Please wake up._

The biobed’s screens immediately sprang to life, brightly flashing Jim’s vitals before them. McCoy breathed a sigh of relief when he saw Kirk’s heart beating strong and regular. He watched all the statistics intently, focusing on brain activity. As he studied the electrical workup of Jim’s mind, a nurse began an intravenous line in his arm. The others methodically stripped off his tattered and filthy clothes, tossing them in the trash chute without a second thought. Once he was undressed, one of the attending nurses covered him with a sheet.

“Looks like his heart is holding its own, as well as his brain. Blood pressure’s a little high; let’s get some meds on board to counteract that.” McCoy scrubbed a hand over his face, noticing with a grimace that it was filthy and smelled horrible. Before touching Kirk a second time, he quickly ran to the sink and washed the grime from his fingers and palms.

As he approached the area again, a searing pain erupted just behind his eyes. He stumbled for a moment, trying not to fall. Screwing his eyes shut and pressing his thumbs into the corners, he took a deep breath and tried to push the pain away. Thankfully, none of the staff noticed.

_“End my pain, Son.”_

Leonard gasped as his father’s voice filled his head. It was as if he was in the room with them, watching him treat Jim. But he knew it was all a figment of his imagination—of the machine.

_You’re dead._

_I…_

_…ended it for you._

Shaking the murkiness from his thoughts, he composed himself enough to return to Jim’s side.

Kirk’s skin was pale and mottled, dark bruises from the countless beatings he had endured covering what seemed like every inch of his body. The thick pink scar from the field surgery in the cell protruded from his flesh. With eyes closed and dry, cracked lips parted just enough to take in raspy breaths, Jim looked as if he were hanging right on the edge of life and death—again.

McCoy readied a hypospray filled with one of the only antibiotics Jim wasn’t allergic to and administered the medication. He wanted Kirk to bitch about the hypo. He wanted him to slap a hand to his neck and whine about the pinch.

He wanted everything to be back to normal.

M’Benga strode into the room, surprising the flustered Doctor.

“Aren’t you supposed to be treating Spock?”

“He’s in his healing trance right now.” M’Benga accepted a hypo from one of the nurses and gently pressed it into the Captain’s neck. “I dressed his wound and started a regen cycle, but there’s nothing much more I can do. He knows what he’s doing…Vulcans are amazing creatures.”

McCoy scowled at his colleague. “You sure? Because that’s all I need is to have him croak on us.”

“He’s going to be fine.” M’Benga offered a reassuring smile. “Bleeding was minimal and the field triage that you gave him helped tremendously.”

McCoy replied with a grunt and a nod before turning his attention back to Jim. “Let’s get that full-body scan going. I want to see what we’re up against.”

“What happened down there, Len?” M’Benga assisted McCoy in gently turning Kirk on his side. McCoy scrutinized the large scar on Jim’s ribcage for a long moment before responding.

“I dug around in his chest in low light—God knows what kind of damage I did. Those bastards beat him within an inch of his life, then stabbed him for good measure.”

“You saved him, that’s what you did.”

“We’ll see…” McCoy, satisfied that the wound was healed properly on the outside at least, guided Jim onto his back once again. His fingers deftly palpated Kirk’s abdomen before he moved on to his neck and shoulders, finally finding their way to the sides of Jim’s temples. He carefully pried open each eye, brows furrowing when Kirk’s pupils reacted sluggishly to the bright overhead lights.

“Let’s get an oxygen field set up. He needs some support if we’re going to get his brain on the right track again.”

M’Benga activated the system and the area around Kirk’s head was instantly enveloped in a pale green light, a light breeze tickling their skin as the oxygen surrounded the patient. Jim’s vitals held steady as his lungs accepted the extra help.

“What do you mean, ‘get his brain on the right track _again_ ’?” M’Benga leaned over the Captain to adjust the thin pillow under his head.

“Ka’al…he…”

_“Just help me die…”_

_“Please, Leonard.”_

_“I’m begging you…”_

“Len?”

McCoy shook his head, willing himself not to crumble. The pain in the back of his skull was now threatening to overtake him. No longer was it a dull ache—annoying, but manageable—rather a sharp pain, white hot and stabbing.

“Just keep working, alright?” Leonard licked his dry lips and rested a cardiac monitor on Jim’s chest. “There was this machine, alright? It messed with his brain.”

_Don’t falter._

_Keep it together._

“You think the side effects are still lingering, don’t you?”

McCoy huffed in annoyance. “What do you think?”

M’Benga seemed unfazed by his curt answer. “Len…you feeling alright? Do you need to tap out?”

“No, dammit! Let’s just get him stable, I can rest later.” He busied himself with another hypospray.

“Doc…”

“I said I’m fine!”

_“You’re a coward, Son.”_

_“Why won’t you help me?”_

_“I’m so disappointed in you…”_

Leonard felt his knees buckle and he had to catch himself on the biobed. Blackness began to creep in at the edges of his vision and he had only seconds before it engulfed him completely. As his head hit the ground, he felt all the weight lift from his body and he no longer felt any pain.

 

XxX   XxX   XxX   XxX   XxX   XxX  

 

 

There was something in his arm.

His hand instinctively went for the invader, his fingers running blindly over what seemed like plastic tubing and tape. With eyes still shut, he followed the line as far as his arm would reach, wincing when it was pulled too tight, tugging at the vein.

McCoy cracked one eye open and tried to take in his surroundings. The lights were low, the blue-green glow of the monitors on the wall behind him giving off an eerie light. He brought his un-tethered hand up and scrubbed it across his face. The stubble on his chin and cheeks prickled against his fingers.

Turning his head, he could just barely make out the main area of Sick Bay through the tinted windows of his room.

He sighed and let his eyes flutter closed again. He couldn’t believe he had let himself fail Kirk like that. To become so weakened that he jeopardized Jim’s health by succumbing to his brain and its whims.

_Jim…_

_Jim?_

A sudden wave of panic swept over him. Throwing the covers off his body, he rolled onto his side and swung his legs off the side of the biobed. Immediately upon resting his feet on the floor, he regretted his rash decision. The room began to spin, nausea overwhelming his senses.

The alarms on the bed blared.

He wished they’d shut up.

“Len!”

He sensed someone rush to his side and guide him back onto the bed.

“What the hell were you thinking?” M’Benga’s voice was laden with concern. “You know better than to get up that fast after being unconscious—or get up at all!”

“I’m a doctor; I know what I’m doing.”

“Well, right now _I’m_ the doctor and you’re the _patient._ ” M’Benga untangled the IV line from around McCoy’s arm. With a flutter of his fingers, the head of the biobed began to rise, settling McCoy into a reclined position. “Just lie back, alright?”

The Doctor huffed. “Fine.” He tried to peer out of the open door. “Where’s Jim? Is he…”

“He’s just fine. Sedated and resting.” M’Benga eyed him. “And don’t think for one second that I’m letting you out of here today to see him. You need to rest.”

“But how’s his cardiac stats? Brain activity? You need to make sure—“

M’Benga clapped his palm over McCoy’s mouth. “Len…he’s _fine._ ”

McCoy pushed his hand away. “Geoff, you don’t understand. You didn’t see what that machine did to him.”

His colleague pulled up a rolling stool and sat next to his bed, grabbing his PADD off of the counter. He swiped his fingers across the screen before handing it to Leonard. “His stats are all normal, see?”

“For now.” McCoy breathed a small sigh of relief at Jim’s stable vitals.

“Listen to me. Whatever happened to him, we can fix—we can help him.”

“I’m not so sure. He may be doing well right now, but from what I saw down there on that planet, the situation can change by the second.”

M’Benga accepted his PADD back and opened Kirk’s records up. He brought up a small keyboard on the screen. “Tell me everything, Doc.”

_I don’t want to remember this._

_It was horrible._

“They started with physical torture. Standard stuff—abdominal blows, superficial wounds—and I’m pretty sure we both had concussions.”

“I figured you endured quite a bit too—I don’t think I’ve even seen so many bruises on you before.”

“I didn’t go through a quarter of Jim did.” McCoy’s eyes saddened. “I’d take physical abuse over mental any day of the week.”

“You mentioned something about a ‘machine’ while we were treating the Captain.”

McCoy leaned his head back on his pillow and blew out a long breath. “Ka’al got bored with typical torture methods. And I’m sure Jim didn’t help his own case by being a smart-mouth.”

“He has a tendency to do that.”

“You got that right.” McCoy snorted and licked his dry lips, prompting his friend to hand him a glass of water. After taking a small sip, he continued. “A scientist had developed a device to aid brain trauma patients. Really spectacular, actually. Brilliant concept. But Ka’al was anything but brilliant…”

M’Benga took the glass from him and motioned for him to go on.

“Ka’al forced him to bastardize his precious machine…to turn it into an implement of torture.” He closed his eyes and tried not to see the image of Jim lying incoherent on the dirty stone floor of his cell. “It dug into his mind—our minds—and used memories against us.”

“He used it on you, too?”

“Just once. But that was enough, let me tell you.”

“Are you still feeling the effects? Be honest with me now.”

McCoy sighed. “I thought I had moved past my father’s death, Geoff. And now that fucking thing dredged up all those awful memories again. It’s amazing how your mind can control you.”

“I’m going to start you on some anti-anxiety meds, alright? Maybe it’ll help.”

“No. I’ll be just fine. I think the worst is over.” He stared out into Sick Bay. “But for Jim…something tells me he’s got a long road ahead of him.”

“How many times did Ka’al use it on the Captain?”

“Two, maybe three times. I honestly don’t remember. I was too busy trying to keep him alive to keep count.”

M’Benga’s fingers fluttered on the PADD’s screen. “What effects did you see after each use?”

“Sometimes he would be unconscious when they brought him back, one time he was in the midst of a seizure. And always in tremendous pain.” McCoy shuddered as he recalled the events. He could see Jim in his mind, curled up on the floor, writhing in anguish. Helpless.

“When he was actually conscious, he wasn’t lucid. A lot of jumbled rambling and confusion.”

M’Benga kept typing. “Was he aware of his surroundings? Or was he hallucinating?”

“Both. He was flashing back to his childhood. The things he said…” McCoy closed his eyes as nausea overtook him. He couldn’t bear to think about what Kirk had endured—both at the hands of Ka’al…and Frank.

“It’s alright, Len. You don’t have to elaborate. I’ve…” M’Benga’s eyes saddened slightly. “…seen the Captain’s psych records.”

McCoy just nodded solemnly.

“Can you elaborate on the field surgery you had to perform? He started showing signs of infection, and I assumed it was from that.”

“Did you…” McCoy’s eyes bulged with concern as he lunged forward in surprise.

“Don’t worry; I know what meds he can’t have.”

McCoy flopped back in relief. It wasn’t that he didn’t trust M’Benga, but Jim meant more to him than anyone could ever imagine. It was hard for him to relinquish control over Kirk’s medical care.

“I know, Geoff. I’m sorry.”

“Don’t worry about it.” He repositioned himself on the stool. “C’mon, let’s finish this so you can get some rest. I’ve got to do rounds, anyway.”

“Jim had a transponder in his boot when he surrendered, so Spock and the team could keep tabs on his position. Ka’al was puttin’ the hurt on him and it popped out somehow. Needless to say, Ka’al didn’t like it.” McCoy unconsciously rubbed his own abdomen. “The bastard stabbed him in the chest—nicked his lung.”

“Tension-pneumo?”

“You got it. I’ve heard a lot of sucking chest wounds in my days, but this one was the worst. I knew I had to act fast if I was going to have any chance of saving him.” McCoy looked down at his hands—now clean—and could almost see Jim’s blood staining them again. “I convinced the guard to give me my Med Kit back, and I actually got him to help me.”

“You can be very persuasive.”

“It took a while, but I think I got through to him. He was the one who helped us escape during the chaos.”

_I wonder what happened to Kogas._

_I’d love the chance to thank him properly._

“Thankfully, my regenerator worked this time, but the sterilizer took a shit. I had to disinfect with booze. Who knows what it was made of.”

“You know Doc, I’ve had the pleasure of being in your company for a long time now, and I have to say—your medical knowledge and knowhow never ceases to amaze me. The fact that you repaired a pneumothorax in what were probably the worst possible conditions says a lot about you. You truly are a miracle worker.”

“There’s no such thing, Geoff. I did what I had to do—and thankfully it worked and Jim made it back to the ship alive.”

_I’m not letting some God take credit for my work._

_I saved Jim._

_Because I couldn’t live without him._

“I decompressed his chest and closed the hole. Simple as that.”

_Simple, my ass._

“We’ll need to monitor his oxygenation for a while, but I think it’ll hold.” McCoy’s eyes began to droop slightly. He could feel exhaustion beginning to set in.

“I’ll keep an eye on it, Doc. Now,” M’Benga set his PADD down and lowered the head of the biobed. “It’s time for you to get some sleep.”

McCoy wanted desperately to see Jim—but he knew his request for release would fall on deaf ears. Kirk was under the best care in the fleet, in the most state-of-the-art medical facility on any ship within the Federation. Allowing himself to rest wasn’t as hard as he had anticipated.

His eyes began to flutter shut as M’Benga left, dimming the lights to almost total darkness as he exited the small room.

When he woke up, he told himself, he could see Jim.

And everything would be okay.

 

XxX   XxX   XxX   XxX   XxX   XxX  

 

_Thousands of tiny lights floated on invisible air currents._

_It was impossible to tell what they were—bugs, microscopic lanterns, nano-bots—in the relative low light of the surrounding area. But whatever they were, they drifted on the tides of the atmosphere, fluttering down to land on the soft, mossy forest floor._

_They made him feel at peace. Fragile and non-threatening, they continued to glide past his body and down to the ground._

_Leonard knelt down and tried to take a few in his hands. The lights scattered at the movement, dissolving into the ground cover—never to be seen again. He looked up at the forest canopy, disappointed to see the creatures had abandoned him._

_He was alone in the darkness._

_Stumbling to his feet, he pushed forward—not knowing where he was going, or why he was even there in the first place. His boots caught on the thick vines that had suddenly appeared at his feet, threatening to trip him with every step._

_And through it all, he felt as if he were missing something…_

_…someone._

_A chill ran up his spine as a sense of sadness overtook him. An unseen force beckoned him to look back over his shoulder, as another warned him not to._

_He didn’t know which one to listen to._

_As he trudged on, the forest became darker and more menacing. Where once the trees had been full of beautiful, sweet-smelling blossoms, now they were old and brittle, limbs falling to the dirt in rotten heaps. Animal carcasses littered the forest floor, decaying and putrid. He gasped as a snake slithered out from the half-decomposed head of a medium-sized rodent._

_The trail became more and more uneven, and the Doctor had trouble keeping his balance. With every few steps, he found himself stumbling and trying desperately not to fall to his knees. Looking down at what would await him if he should tumble; he steeled himself and fought to stay upright._

_Dozens of centipede-like creatures scurried around at his feet, threatening to climb up his legs if he stayed stationary too long. They hissed as they reared up on their legs, spitting venom upwards. He tried to shield his eyes, recoiling as the acidic poison splattered on his face._

_He screamed as the corrosive liquid burned his flesh, exposing bone within seconds. Frantically clawing at his quickly deteriorating cheeks, he feverishly tried to wipe away the substance with his sleeve. As he swiped his arm over his face, he felt one of his eyes pop out of the socket, holding on by the nerve for a few seconds before the venom burned through—allowing it to fall to the forest path._

_His chest began to tighten as he panicked and fell to the ground. Blinded in his remaining eye by the toxin, he scratched around in the dirt trying to find something—anything—to ground himself with. He hated the feeling of the darkness, the sensation he got from encroaching doom._

_A voice, gurgling and weak, floated out from the forest around him. Even in its feeble state, he still recognized it as friendly._

_Familiar…_

_“Don’t fight it…it’s no use.”_

_McCoy rolled onto his side, towards the sound of the pain-filled voice._

_The poison seeped into his mouth via the hole in his cheek, dribbling down his throat. His damaged vocal cords twisted in protest as he tried to force them to function. Nothing more than a garbled croak tumbled from his bleeding lips._

_“Ji…” A mixture of poison and blood trickled from his mouth, splattering onto his shirt. He instinctively swallowed, the fiery concoction torturing his esophagus as it made its way down to his stomach. Coughing as his body tried to refuse, the action forced droplets of the poisonous soup into his lungs._

_He felt his organs begin to shut down._

_“…’s okay to…be ‘fraid…”_

_Hot tears squeezed from the corners of McCoy’s eyes as sobs overtook him. Every shudder brought on by his cries forced the poison deeper into his veins and tissues and the pain was almost too much for him to endure._

_And now on top of it, Jim was out there somewhere—and he couldn’t help him._

_He had heard the fear in his voice, the anguish that whatever injury he had sustained was causing him. Maybe he had succumbed to the centipedes? There was no way for McCoy to know—he was now completely blind._

_And he knew they didn’t have much time left._

_He tried to call out again, attempting to locate Jim through the sound of his voice. If they were going to die here—he thought—they may as well do it in each other’s arms._

_“Jim…”_

_His throat burned with an intensity he had never felt. As he swallowed once more, he could feel air rushing into his neck and he was suddenly completely unable to breathe. The acid had burned a hole clear through his throat._

_As the oxygen began to leave his body via the hole—never making it to his brain—he cried._

_He cried because he was going to die._

_He cried because he was in pain._

_He cried because…_

_…because Jim was so close yet so far away._

_He reached out into the darkness with shaking hands, hoping against hope that he would find a warm body close by. His legs began to stiffen as the poison moved through his system. Within a few moments, it had overtaken his arms too—leaving them frozen in rigor way before he had actually expired._

_His heart began to slow down and he knew he was close to death._

_And still he cried._

_His mind began to cloud as it was deprived of oxygen. He knew it wouldn’t be long now._

_Warm blood dripped from his mouth and down his cheek, splattering on the dirt path. He could smell the acrid scent of the venom as it made contact with the soil._

_As the last seconds of his life ticked away, he finally got the peace he was seeking._

_A pair of strong, warm arms wrapped around his rigid body and held him tight. A soft voice, now devoid of pain, whispered in his ear._

_“…I’m here…”_

_His body relaxed and he allowed himself a moment of tranquility. The body behind him was familiar, and he relished in what little sensation his fraying nerve endings would give him. He was grateful that his last moments on—whatever planet this was—were going to be spent in the embrace of…_

_“I’m here to take what is mine…”_

_Jim’s voice suddenly turned sinister as his arms squeezed McCoy, forcing the breath from his lungs in a massive gasp. The pressure broke his ribs, puncturing his organs from all sides. He was instantly flipped onto his back, his limbs falling limply onto the dirt._

_His remaining eye regained its sight for a few seconds—just enough time for him to see Kirk’s contorted face hovering inches from his own._

_The young Captain’s eyes were black and sinister, mouth curling around pointed fangs. He licked his lips with a bloody tongue, exposing another row of sharp teeth behind the others. As he leaned closer, McCoy could feel Kirk’s hot breath ghosting across what remained of his skin._

_“You’re mine…everything…is mine...”_

_The voice wasn’t Jim’s._

_It was demonic—echoing from outside of the small area they occupied._

_“You soul…is no longer yours…”_

_The Doctor tried to scream, but his larynx was long gone, dissolved by the toxin spat at him in the attack. Where once he was praying that death would spare him, now he begged for it to come before Jim could take his life._

_He realized with a resigned shudder that his demise would come at the hands of his lover._

_Kirk bent down, and as his razor-sharp teeth pierced the flesh of McCoy’s neck and bit down, Leonard felt his heart explode from his chest…_

McCoy awoke with such a jolt that he nearly tumbled from the biobed.

He clawed at his chest, expecting to find protruding, jagged bones. He gasped as he tried to fill his protesting lungs with air. He could hear the alarms blaring on the wall and knew he had only seconds before the nurses came barreling in to see what the commotion was all about.

And—as if on cue—that’s exactly what happened. Two nurses burst into the room, one ordering the lights at full capacity with a biting tone to her voice. Leonard screwed his eyes tightly shut and threw a hand over his face. They rushed to his side, laying hands on him in a soothing yet insistent manner.

_They don’t want me to hurt myself…_

_I’m not going to…_

“I’m fine…” McCoy tried to swat their hands away, but they wouldn’t relent. One carefully grabbed hold of the intravenous line in his arm, mindful to keep it from being ripped from his veins with his flailing.

“Doctor, you need to relax or you’ll pull the line.”

“I know that! What do you think I’m tryin’ to do?” He pried one of the nurses’ fingers from his bicep. “I told you I’m fine…you can leave.”

They eyed each other with apprehension before speaking.

“Doctor…a-are you sure? What happened?”

McCoy was getting irritated, and could feel his ire beginning to bubble up. He just wanted them to leave him alone with his tormented thoughts.

“Haven’t you ever had a bad dream?” His voice spat more than he intended for it to do. The nurses immediately recoiled at his sass.

“Of course…we were just…”

The Doctor sighed tiredly. “Look, I’m truly fine…alright?” He sat forward, resting his chin in his hand. “Really…you two can go.”

“Are you sure?”

“One-hundred-percent.”

_Leave me alone._

The nurses hesitantly began to leave. As they neared the door, one looked back over her shoulder. “Please call us if…”

“I don’t need anything.”

She nodded silently, her eyes solemn, as she exited the room.

McCoy’s voice was gruff as he commanded the lights back down. Although he knew it didn’t matter what intensity the lighting was set at. It wasn’t like he was going to sleep any more anyway.

 

XxX   XxX   XxX   XxX   XxX   XxX  

 

Leonard peeked around the door jamb as he adjusted the bio-bracelet on his wrist. He knew he had to move fast if he wanted to make a clean break. He was already halfway there—having switched his monitors from the bed to the wristband he lifted from the bedside cart. The pressure sensors on the bed wouldn’t register now that he was “off the grid.”

He felt like a naughty child as he hid from the nurses, but he needed to get out of that room.

He needed to see Jim.

The two on-duty nurses busied themselves with light housekeeping as the rest of Sick Bay slept. Two patients inhabited the main room, both sound asleep. The lights in the other private pod were at half-intensity, and he figured Spock was resting comfortably there.

_If those green-blooded-weirdoes even rest…_

_He’s probably doing math._

He could see the door to Jim’s pod, closed but not locked, on the other end of the bay. If he stayed along the outer wall, he might just make it without being seen.

One nurse went into a small storage alcove, the door whooshing shut behind her. McCoy smirked in the darkness of his room. Now he only had one to contend with. He contemplated a diversionary tactic—maybe dickering with the computer to set off an errant alarm—but he quickly realized in his weakened state, he might not be able to pull it off. Besides, that was a ‘Jim Kirk move’, not a McCoy one.

He watched her like a hawk as she moved between the two sleeping patients, checking vitals and medications. When she turned her back to enter data into the computer, he knew his chance had come.

Quietly, he slipped out of his room, the carpet absorbing the slaps of his bare feet. Never taking his eyes off the working nurse, he slunk against the wall towards Jim’s room. His legs were beginning to wobble as he began to tire out.

_Maybe this was a bad idea._

He pressed himself up against the wall—partly to steady himself—as he continued. He estimated he only had twenty more feet until he was home free. Beads of sweat began to drip down from his hair into the collar of his scrubs—thank goodness M’Benga had granted him reprieve from a gown—as he desperately tried not to fall.

Exhaustion was setting in and he cursed both he and Jim for ever going down to the planet in the first place.

_Just a few more steps…_

“Doctor McCoy!”

He jumped at the sound of Nurse Bonham’s voice. Her hands were on him seconds later, steadying him. She immediately tried to guide him to the nearest biobed.

“Sneaking out of bed, eh?” She tugged on the monitor bracelet. “Thought you could fool me?”

He tried to be coy. “C’mon, Maggie…”

“Don’t you try and charm me, Doctor. You’re going back to bed.” She smiled softly as she patted his shoulder.

He wasn’t going to budge. He was on a mission and he’d be damned if he would fail. “Please, just let me check on the Captain. I’ve been cooped up in that room for too long and I can’t sleep.”

She hesitated for a moment before speaking. “And just what am I supposed to tell Doctor M’Benga when he asks why you were out of bed?”

“He’s never going to know…and if he does find out, I’ll take the heat. I promise.” He considered batting his eyelashes at her, but figured it would be overkill.

Hands on her hips, she eyed him with pursed lips. After a long moment, she narrowed her eyes and huffed. “You’ll sit in a hover chair and you won’t get up, got it? And if I see so much as a blip on your monitors, you’re going right back to bed.”

McCoy stifled the chuckle that was threatening to escape his lips. He had never heard Bonham so stern before—especially with him. She sure had a lot of guts. But, he figured, she was probably feeling braver than usual, seeming as that he was the patient and not the doctor today.

“Yes, Ma’am.” He was internally thankful for her offer of the chair, as his legs were feeling like jelly and his muscles ached something fierce. He watched as she crossed the main bay, retrieving the chair. When she returned, he quickly settled himself before the short ride to Kirk’s private room.

The pod was dimly lit; the glow from the monitors casting an unnatural light on Jim’s sleeping form. McCoy’s eyes immediately went to the numerous vital statistics flashing on the screen above the biobed. He breathed a sigh of relief when everything seemed to check out.

Bonham guided the chair to the bedside and secured the mag locks. She laid a hand on McCoy’s shoulder from behind. “He’s doing well, Doctor. Sedation is minimal, but holding. M’Benga hopes to wean him off in a day or two.”

“Thanks for the update.” He scrubbed his hand over his face. “And thanks for…”

“Don’t mention it, Doc.” She squeezed his shoulder. “But I mean it about not getting up.”

He laughed softly. “Scout’s honor. I’m not movin’. Too tired, anyway.”

“Call me when you’re ready to go back to your room.” She turned and left, leaving McCoy alone with Jim for the first time in over thirty-six hours.

Even in the low light of the room, McCoy could still see the multitude of bruises and lacerations that covered Kirk’s body. A thin white sheet had been pulled to just below Kirk’s pectoral muscles, exposing the area where there should have been a scar from the hasty field surgery performed back on Xentia. He leaned forward and lifted the sheet slightly. There was nothing more than a thin white line, almost completely invisible. He figured someone had done another regen cycle. A person would have to been in very close quarters with the Captain in bright light to even notice it. He sat back with a relieved smile.

_One less reminder…_

Reaching out, he wrapped his fingers around Jim’s hand and gave it a gentle squeeze. He relished in its warmth. Tracing circles on the back of Kirk’s hand with his thumb, he sighed deeply.

He was so grateful to just be able to touch him.

To know that he was alive.

Kirk’s vitals immediately jumped at the contact, then settled again. McCoy smiled softly. He knew that the kid was in there—somewhere. Knowing that Jim would benefit from hearing a familiar voice, he began to speak. He definitely had a lot to say.

“You know, darlin’…this really is turning into a pattern with us.” He sighed deeply before continuing. “Although I have to admit, I’ve been pretty good about keepin’ myself out of this place…until now.”

The young Captain laid silently, his chest rising and falling with each gentle breath he took. Leonard knew from his studies that Jim could more than likely hear him, even if his brain wasn’t making the connections on what was being said. Every textbook and paper he had ever read about the unconscious mind told him to keep talking. It just might help Kirk recover faster.

And the longer he stayed—the more he said—would keep him close to Jim for as long as he could manage.

“M’Benga says I’ll be able to get the hell out of here tomorrow. Spock’s gonna survive, too…the stubborn bastard. You’ll have to stay a while longer, though.” He squeezed Jim’s hand. “Your vitals look good and…”

He hung his head and blew out a long breath. Why was he beating around the bush with small talk? He knew he was avoiding saying what was really on his mind. Part of him believed it was genuinely because he didn’t want to stress Kirk, but another part knew the real truth.

He was afraid.

Afraid to relive those awful moments.

Afraid to dredge up memories he wanted to bury deep within his soul.

_I’m afraid that it’ll happen again…_

_…and again…_

_…and again…_

“You scared the shit out of me, Jim. Once again, I thought I was going to have to carry you home in a body bag. And I never want to see you like that.” He could feel his cheeks flushing; hear his heartbeat whooshing in his ears. “How many times do I have to say it? Stop this reckless behavior before you get yourself killed!”

Kirk’s heart rate began to fluctuate and McCoy knew he was on a slippery slope.

_This isn’t the time, Len._

_Calm down, you’ll have another opportunity_ _to ream him out._

He leaned forward andgently ran his fingers through Jim’s short hair before ghosting his lips on his forehead. Kirk’s statistics immediately calmed.

“Nevermind, kid. We don’t have to talk about this now.” He sat back against the hover chair, feeling his eyelids begin to get heavy. He knew he should call the nurse to come fetch him and bring him back to his own room, but he didn’t want to leave, even though he had done what he had originally set out to accomplish—simply check on the Captain.

_But it had been so much more than that._

_I knew he was fine, M’Benga said so._

_I still needed to see for myself._

“Jesus, Jim. You sure have put a spell on me.” McCoy shivered slightly in the chill of the room. He wished he had a blanket. But calling the nurse to ask for one would just result in her taking him away from Kirk. He thought about getting up—the small storage cabinet was less than three feet away—but he knew Bonham would be on him faster than fire if he left his chair.

“Computer, raise the ambient temperature of the room by four degrees.”

Within seconds, Leonard felt warmer. He settled into the chair, Jim’s hand still nestled in his own.

“I love you, James Kirk. Don’t you ever forget it.”

As McCoy was pulled into his dreams, he was barely aware of Jim’s fingers feebly squeezing his own.


	17. Chapter Seventeen

Shot in the Dark: Chapter Seventeen

“I know you were out of bed last night.”

McCoy looked up from his book. He tried to put on his best innocent face. He knew there was no way Geoff could have known. He had rolled himself back to his room early in the morning, before his colleague had come on duty.

“No I wasn’t.”

M’Benga crossed his arms over his abdomen and scowled at his friend. “Well then, I guess the security feed lies, right?”

“I thought I ducked away from the—“

M’Benga raised his eyebrow. “Thought so.”

“Bonham cracked, huh?” McCoy made a mental note to thank the nurse for holding out as long as she must have. M’Benga could be very persuasive when he wanted information.

“Len, I meant it when I said I wanted you to rest. I looked at your vitals record from last night. Your heart rate was elevated…along with your blood pressure.”

“And when is that any different from any other day?”

“C’mon, Doc. This is serious. You could have done major damage.”

McCoy rolled his eyes. “I’m fine. One-hundred-percent. I checked my own stats not twenty minutes ago.”

“I know. I saw you log into the computer.” M’Benga pulled up a rolling stool. “Just because you’re doing okay doesn’t mean you’re _doing okay._ ”

“You better have come in here to discharge me and not lecture.”

“You’re the one who lectures, Len. Not me.” There was a mischievous twinkle in the other doctor’s eyes.

“Hey, I only lecture when people deserve it.”

A nurse poked her head in the door. “Sorry to interrupt, but Commander Spock is asking to speak to Doctor McCoy.”

Leonard turned his attention to his friend. “Duty calls. So am I cleared so I can get back to work and talk to Pointy?”

The nurse clapped her hand over her mouth to stifle a giggle before ducking out of the room.

“Medically speaking, I can’t keep you any longer. But I’m sure you already know that.” McCoy started to pull back the sheets and get out of bed. M’Benga stopped him with a hand around his bicep. “But I want you to take it easy. Just because I let you out doesn’t mean you can go back running yourself ragged. I want to monitor you—especially after what that machine did to you both.”

“When have I ever disobeyed doctor’s orders?”

M’Benga rolled his eyes. “You’re turning into the Captain.”

“Hey now, that’s bordering on insulting.”

“Take it how you want to take it. Just promise me you’ll fly low for a while. We don’t know if the effects will resurface if you get too stressed.”

McCoy sighed. He knew his friend was just looking out for him, and in turn—looking out for Kirk. “I’ll make sure I’m not running full-tilt, alright?”

M’Benga smiled acceptingly. “And go clean up before you go back on duty. You’ve got an epic funk brewing.” M’Benga pinched his fingers on his nostrils.

“Shut the hell up, wouldja? That’s the second time in less than three months that you’ve told me I stink. That’s grounds for an insubordination write-up.”

M’Benga laughed heartily and put his hands up in surrender. “Hey, not trying to offend, Doc. Just a friendly nudge so you don’t kill the crew.”

“C’mere and give me a hug. You know…to thank you for taking care of me.” McCoy put on his biggest fake smile and extended his arms.

“You’re just as bad as Kirk, you know that?” M’Benga backed away. “Get out of here before I sedate you.”

“That’s the line I usually use on Jim.”

M’Benga just smiled as he left McCoy to get dressed. After a few minutes, Leonard was outfitted in off-duty clothing the nurse had provided and ready to leave. As he exited his pod, he received warm smiles and encouraging nods from his staff and patients alike. It was obvious they were all happy to see him healthy again.

As he strode through Medical, he allowed himself to deviate from his exit path and go to Jim’s private room. As he approached the door, he saw a nurse with her back to him, drawing some blood from Kirk’s arm. Not wanting to bother her—or get personal with Jim with another person in the room—he simply stood at the door for a moment before leaving.

_I’ll be back soon, darlin’._

_And we’ll get you awake and on the path to healing._

_I hope…_

XxX   XxX   XxX   XxX   XxX   XxX  

 

It was amazing what a hot shower and clean clothes could do for a man.

McCoy—unlike last time M’Benga had told him he reeked—had taken advantage of Jim’s real-water shower. The almost scalding liquid threatened to burn his skin off as he stood in the stall, but he withstood it, scrubbing until he could no longer smell or feel the alien planet on himself.

He sighed in relief knowing he would never have to go back again.

After cleansing himself, he lingered in Jim’s quarters for a while before finally resining to the fact that he’d have to talk to Spock. He pilfered an orange from Kirk’s fruit basket and headed out the door.

Upon entering Sick Bay—fresh pressed uniform feeling extra good on his revitalized body—he quickly went to check on Jim before making his way to Spock.

Kirk’s pod was dimly lit, the young Captain resting in the same position he had last seen him in. He approached the biobed and took Jim’s hand in his own. He loved how warm it was. Never letting go, he used his free hand to log in to the computer and run a quick check of his vitals. Everything looked good, no signs of the infection that M’Benga had quickly treated hours after arrival. His sedation levels were almost nil, and McCoy hoped to bring Kirk back sometime this afternoon.

“You’re moving in the right direction, darlin’.” McCoy leaned over and softly kissed the Captain. “Now all we have to do is make sure that thing didn’t fry your brain permanently.”

_‘Cause if it did…_

_Well, it’s a good thing Ka’al is already dead._

McCoy straightened up and adjusted Jim’s pillow before moving back. Taking one last look at Kirk, he smiled and was able to allow himself a moment of solace. He told himself they were safe on the _Enterprise._ Here, he could treat Jim with the best technology the Federation had to offer. The kid would be up and annoying him in no time.

And then they could go on with their lives.

Hopefully without any more drama.

_Who am I kidding?_

_‘Drama’ is Jim’s middle name._

_Well, either that or ‘infant’. The jury’s still out on that one._

“Stay put, you got it? I’ll be back later.”

McCoy couldn’t wait until Jim could answer him back. Staring at Kirk for a few seconds more, he finally took his leave and made his way to Spock’s room. He found the Vulcan sitting up in his bed, his attention focused on one of two PADDs on his lap.

“M’Benga holding you hostage, too?”

Spock looked up from his PADD. “I am not being held against my will, Doctor. I require four-point-five more hours of nutritional supplements to offset my time in the healing trance. Once that regimen is completed, Doctor M’B—“

“Forget I said anything, Spock.” McCoy sat on a chair at the Vulcan’s bedside. “You wanted to talk to me?”

“Yes, Doctor. My memory is admittedly hazy beginning just after I was struck by the projectile. I wish to inquire about—“

“You’re worried about Jim, aren’t you?” The Doctor smirked.

Spock remained unfazed by McCoy’s assumption. “I am merely trying to gather information for Admiral Pike. I received a communique from him this morning and he is eager for a mission update.”

“Yeah…okay. Whatever you say. Your secret is safe with me.” McCoy drummed his fingers on the bedside cart.

“I assure you I am not trying to mislead you or anyone else in any way. My reasoning is based solely on fact-gathering.”

McCoy zipped his lips shut with a mock gesture and lowered his voice to a whisper. “Got it.”   He winked for good measure. God, he loved getting under Spock’s skin. He swore he saw a fleeting annoyed grimace cross the First Officer’s lips before he spoke. “Now, what do you want to know?”

“I am pondering the meaning of a message that had been relayed from the planet.”

“From who? What did it say?” McCoy was instantly nervous—although he didn’t know why. Ka’al was dead, with N’Jal and her soldiers assuming temporary control of the crumbling government. A wave of panic swept over him as he hoped both she and Mak’ai were safe.

“Are you familiar with a doctor named Tazan?”

“He’s the one that built the machine. Why?”

_God, I hope he’s not dead._

_We could use him…_

“Apparently he has joined the resistance faction and is hoping to come aboard the _Enterprise._ He feels he could be of help to the Captain—and you.” Spock laced his fingers together on his abdomen. “I did not want to give him permission to board without the consent of Captain Kirk.”

“I’m giving the okay! Medical override of the Captain’s rank!” McCoy wanted to do a cartwheel right there, even with Spock watching. He couldn’t have pulled better news out of his ass if he tried. With Tazan on board, Jim might actually have a winning chance at getting back to normal. “You get him up here as soon as possible!”

Spock was silent for a long moment before replying. “Very well, Doctor. If you feel the Captain would benefit from his assistance. I will relay the message to bring him aboard.”

“Make it quick. And tell Mak’ai to make sure he brings notes and materials he can get his hands on. I have a feeling we’ll need them. And for God’s sakes tell him to bring the device. I don’t care if it’s in a thousand pieces.”

The Vulcan’s fingers fluttered across the screen of his PADD.

“What, no bitching about the Prime Directive?” McCoy couldn’t believe Spock didn’t even put up a fight. Maybe he was getting soft when it came to Jim.

“The Prime Directive has already been violated on several occasions on this mission. As the Captain would undoubtedly say, ‘one more time isn’t going to hurt’.”

McCoy laughed out loud. “Holy Hell, Spock. It always amazes me when that human side of you peeks out—even if it’s just for a second.”

“Doctor, the Xentians have already seen our technology and strategies. I am aware that Admiral Pike has given his approval for such endeavors and therefore have…”

“You just can’t take a compliment, can you?”

“I fail to see how pointing out my human characteristics could be considered a compliment.”

“Oh my God, Spock…” McCoy slapped his hand against his forehead. “Nevermind.”

“If you are quite finished, Doctor, Admiral Pike is awaiting a response about the mission.”

McCoy stood up. “I’ll call him myself. As CMO, I can relay sensitive medical information you aren’t at liberty to discuss with the higher-up’s.”

“Very well, Doctor.” He hesitated for a moment before speaking again. “I would like to express my gratitude for your assistance planet side. Even though my injury was not life-threatening, I appreciate your timely and efficient treatment.”

McCoy raised an eyebrow. “’Timely and efficient’? I guess that’s as close as I’ll ever get to a heart-felt thank you from a Vulcan, huh?”

Spock remained silent.

“Thought so.”

 

 

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_“McCoy, why are you making this call? What the hell happened?”_

The Doctor stared blankly at the screen in front of him. Christopher Pike’s scowling face glared back at him. The older man sat leaning casually in his chair, dressed in civilian clothing. It was obvious from the décor of the room that he was at home. There was a crackling fire behind him, and McCoy could just make out the sunset disappearing behind a row of trees through the windows.

“It’s a long story Sir, and frankly—I’m tired as hell.” He just wanted this to be over with. Jim needed him, and he wanted to get back to his side as soon as possible.

Pike sighed on the screen. _“Something tells me I’m not going to like what I’m going to hear. Just give me the short version and know that I’ll expect a full report from every member of the away team before the week is out.”_

“Short version? That might not be possible.”

_“Try. Where’s Captain Kirk?”_

McCoy scrubbed his palm over his face, taking a moment to rub his eyes. He was so exhausted, but he knew he was talking to his superior officer and—no matter how personable and caring Christopher Pike was—he was still an Admiral. Leonard had to put on his best airs. He straightened in his seat.

“Where is he always after a mission-gone-wrong?”

Pike rolled his eyes. _“Sick Bay.”_

“He’s sedated and recovering. But it’ll be a long haul.” McCoy considered his words carefully before continuing. “We walked into a firefight, I was captured and the damn fool surrendered to try and rescue me.”

_“I’m assuming the ‘damn fool’ is none other than the man that’s lying in a drug-induced stupor in Medical right now?”_

“One and the same, Sir.”

Pike shook his head in disbelief. _“Alright, so he surrendered. How in the hell did that morph into him becoming so gravely injured and Ka’al dead? Let me guess…his smart mouth?”_

McCoy had to stifle a laugh. The Admiral didn’t know just how right he actually was. Or maybe he did.

“Well, his penchant for smart-assery played a part in it, but…” He could feel his meager lunch bubble in his stomach at the thought of what else had happened.

_“Go on, Doctor.”_

“Ka’al had this…machine. The mechanics of it are too complex to go into detail right here, but it caused serious brain damage. Damage I’m still trying to figure out if it’s temporary or permanent.” He could feel his eyes sadden and hoped Pike didn’t notice. Pike sat forward on the screen, bringing his body closer to the camera. His face was crossed with a mixture of concern and interest. The older man said nothing and waited for the Doctor to continue. McCoy continued with a sigh.

“And to top it off, Jim had a transponder in his boot so Spock could at least try and find him. Ka’al and his cronies found it when they were giving Jim one of many beatings. I guess the bastard didn’t take too kindly to being spied on and he beat the Captain within an inch of his life. Stabbed him in the chest for good measure, too. I…I barely saved him, Sir.” McCoy’s heart began to race as his cheeks flushed. He hated appearing vulnerable in front of anyone—and especially one of the more influential Admirals. He tried to take as covert a deep breath as he could to steady his nerves. “Then they planned to execute us and Spock swooped in with the resistance in the nick of time.”

_“But that doesn’t explain how Ka’al ended up on the receiving end of a phaser. You just said you were rescued.”_

“Jim…he…he was manic, Sir. The effects of the machine wreaked havoc on his system. He was hallucinating, jumping in and out of reality in his own mind. And it didn’t follow any pattern. One minute he was fine, the next—uncontrollable. Then back in his right mind again.” McCoy marveled at how Jim was able to actually survive both the physical and mental trauma he endured. He had to hand it to the kid—he had moxie. “And once Jax died in his arms, there was no talking him down.”

_“Please tell me that you at least went somewhere a little less public than the town square.”_

“Jim ran off after Ka’al when the coward jumped ship. We tried to stop him, but that ‘Jim Kirk spark’ took over. I’m surprised he still had it in him to give chase considering all his injuries.” McCoy mentally went over their run through the citadel, trying to push the image of the door and blood-splattered floor from his mind. “We cornered him in his office. That’s when he shot Spock.”

_“Doctor M’Benga tells me he’ll be just fine.”_

“He’ll be discharged in a few hours.”

_“You still haven’t explained how Ka’al ended up dead.”_

“I could tell the Captain was cycling into another manic episode. They fought physically for several minutes. Ka’al had been stunned by a modification on our weapons and it slowed him down considerably.”

_“And no one thought to just knock him on his ass and end the fight?”_

“Believe me, Sir. I wanted nothing more than to remove him from the situation. But he swore vendetta against Ka’al…and I firmly believe that if we had tried to intervene, there may have been no way for Jim to discern between us and the enemy. He wasn’t all…there.”

_“I’m not blaming you, McCoy.”_

“I know, Sir. I tried to convince him to relinquish the phaser, but…” McCoy could see Jim in his mind—hands shaking, sweat dripping from his forehead. The young Captain’s knuckles were bleeding, his breathing erratic as he desperately tried to get control. “In all due respect, Sir, the bastard deserved it.”

_“Well, we’ll have to find a suitable way to explain this to the brass. I’m going to be up to my elbows in red tape for months.”_ The Admiral shook his head with a small smirk. _“Leave it to James to always make things difficult.”_

“Truer words have never been spoken.”

_“I’ve been in the business of Jim Kirk a long time now. Nothing surprises me anymore.”_ The skin around the older man’s eyes crinkled as he offered a warm smile. _“I know how much you care about Jim, and I can only imagine how horrible it must have been down there.”_

McCoy had a moment of panic. He and Jim had kept their relationship relatively secret—with only a few senior crew members actually knowing the truth. Fraternization rules were in place for a reason, and they both knew that there could be real repercussions if the Admiralty felt they were being unprofessional. His mouth went dry and he nervously wrung his hands together out of sight of the camera.

_“If I were ever put in that position with Vina, I don’t know if I could have been as courageous. He’s…lucky to have you.”_

The Doctor couldn’t believe his ears. He quickly pinched his thigh underneath his desk to make sure he wasn’t dreaming. McCoy was pretty sure he had just heard an Admiral give an unofficial okay to their relationship. And, surprisingly, he wasn’t worried. He knew Pike was the most lenient and understanding of all the brass—that the man wouldn’t say a word to anyone else until Jim and he made the decision to go public. The look on Pike’s face had said it all. { _I know… its okay and it’s not my place to say anything else…just don’t be stupid about it.}_

“Thank you, Sir. I have a feeling I’m never going to be able to get rid of him.”

_And I’m totally fine with that._

“I hope to wean him off the sedatives in the next several hours. We’ve been in contact with the scientist who developed the machine back on Xentia. He’s eager to help in any way that he can to get Jim up and running again.” He looked at his chronometer. “I anticipate his arrival by nightfall.”

_“Tell him he’ll be granted full asylum in exchange for his help.”_

“Thank you, Admiral. That’s very generous.”

_“Don’t mention it.”_

“Can I ask you what will happen to him and the others once we’re finished with the Captain’s treatment? Mak’ai and N’Jal were both instrumental in our escape. They’ve become great allies—and good friends.”

_“I think that if the Federation decides to help with the Xentian rebuild—which I believe they will—we’re going to need liaisons. Your two brave female warriors will be crucial to keeping on good terms with the people.”_

“N’Jal has assumed temporary leadership. She’ll be more than willing to work with Starfleet to help bring her people back to their former glory. As for Mak’ai…I don’t know if she’s still interested in the Academy or not. She may want to stay behind and help with the reorganization.”

_“Whatever she decides, please let her know there is already a space reserved for her in San Francisco. And it will stay open and offered as long as she needs it to be.”_

“She’s very grateful, Sir. And I know that when she decides to attend, she won’t let any of us down.”

A muffled voice floated in from somewhere in the Pike household. The Admiral turned his attention away for just a moment. _“Just a few more minutes, dear. Keep the chicken warm.”_

“I’ll let you go, Sir. I’m sorry I interrupted your dinner.”

_“I’m not finished with you yet, McCoy. I know that you’ve also been ill. I want to make sure you’re taking care of yourself.”_

“I’ll be fine, I promise you.”

_“Look…M’Benga told me you had also been tortured. Are you sure you’re alright? Are you able to continue your duties as CMO?”_

“Absolutely. Ka’al only used the device on me once…and at a fairly low setting. The Captain endured much, much more.”

_“Glad to hear it.”_ Pike clasped his hands together on his desktop. _“I know I’m not a psychiatrist, but if you ever need to talk to anyone—about anything—please remember that I’m here to listen.”_

“Thank you, Sir. I’ll keep that in mind.”

_“You saved his life, Leonard. Starfleet owes you a great thank you.”_

“I don’t need any thanks. It’s what I do.”

_What I needed to do…_

_I couldn’t have lived with myself had I failed._

“If there isn’t anything else, Admiral, I need to get to rounds.”

_“Of course, Doctor. Keep me up-to-date on Jim’s condition and treatment. Let him know that when he’s able, I’ll need to talk to him about everything that’s happened.”_

“Understood. And Sir…” McCoy hesitated briefly. “…thank you. For everything.”

The older man smiled warmly. _“Anytime. I’ll keep in touch with Starfleet’s decisions on what to do with the Ka’al situation. But I wouldn’t worry too much about it…I’ve got a lot of pull around here.”_ He winked.   The phantom voice sounded again, causing Pike to sigh. _“Dinner bell calls.”_

“Enjoy, Admiral. I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t envious of your non-replicated food.”

_“When you two get back to Earth, you’ll have a home-cooked meal to look forward to. Just let us know when.”_

“I’m going to hold you to that, Sir.”

_“Good, because I won’t take ‘no’ for an answer. Take care, Leonard.”_

The screen flicked off, Pike’s image replaced by the obnoxious background Jim had installed on Leonard’s personal computer screen. Dogs should never, _ever_ wear Halloween costumes. And of course, the jerk had password protected it so McCoy had no way to change it.

_Dammit, Jim._

 

XxX   XxX   XxX   XxX   XxX   XxX  

 

 

 

 

_“…and this is Sick Bay, Big Man.”_

McCoy looked up from the plethora of lab results and medical records at the sound of Scotty’s voice. A quick glance at his chronometer told him it was just past oh-seven-hundred hours. He drained the last of his coffee and pushed back from his desk. Approaching the door, he straightened his tunic and took one last look at himself in the small mirror on the wall to make sure he looked decent. After all, the last time he had seen Tazan, he was beaten and bloody.

_“Let’s see if the head honcho’s around for ya.”_

McCoy rounded the corner and ran smack into Scotty and Tazan. The alien doctor was dressed in fresh clothing, his missing eye now obscured by a brown leather patch. He held a few notebooks in his clawed hands, and Leonard was pleased to see that they were no longer shaking with fear. He extended a hand and welcomed his guest.

“It’s nice to see you again, Doctor Tazan. I trust Mister Scott took good care of you?”

The old man glowed bright green as he smiled broadly and accepted the handshake. “Like I was family, Doctor McCoy. I’m so glad to see that you’ve managed to stay relatively unscathed. I’m…” He lowered his eyes, and luminescent glow fading to a pale blue. “…so very sorry for what I did to you and your Captain.”

“Hey now, don’t blame yourself.” He extended a hand toward his office. “C’mon in so we can talk. Thanks for bringing him down here, Scotty.”

“Aye, don’t mention it. It’s not every day I get ‘ta meet such a brilliant man.” He clapped Tazan on the back with gusto. “Remember what we talked about, now. You share your recipe for your brew and I’ll share mine!”

Tazan’s color returned to a bright green. “I look forward to it, Mister Scott. Thank you for your hospitality.”

Scotty left with a smile, his communicator beeping as he walked through Medical. McCoy had to contain his laughter as the Chief Engineer yelled at whoever had called. All he could make out as the man left in a flurry was that—apparently—someone had broken his ship. _Again._

The Doctor closed the door behind him and Tazan, motioning for his new friend to take a seat in front of his desk. “Would you like something to drink?”

“No, thank you, Doctor.” The older man settled himself in the plush chair and placed his notebooks on the desktop. “Is it alright if I set these here?”

“Of course.” McCoy rounded his desk and sat. “And please, call me ‘Leonard’. There’s no need for formality between us after all we’ve been through together.”

Tazan looked around the room with wonder in his eyes. “This technology…your ship…everything—it’s incredible. I’m honored that you would allow me to come on board.”

“She is something else, that’s for sure. Flagship of the Federation. And the honor is all mine. I’m relieved to have you here.” He pointed to Tazan’s head. “You know, I could fix that eye for you. Give you a cybernetic one. It would increase your visual power well beyond what you originally had.”

The old man pondered silently for a moment before responding. “Thank you, but no. It needs to serve as a reminder of what I did.”

“You don’t deserve that souvenir, Tazan. You were forced to do what you did. You’re not at fault.”

“Perhaps not. But still, it is a demon that I feel will never leave me. And that is my burden.” He offered a small smile. “Thank you for the proposal.”

McCoy shrugged. “Well, the offer stands if you change your mind.”

“How is Captain Kirk? I feared terribly for him.”

McCoy’s shoulders sagged as he blew out a long breath. “He’s holding his own for now. But he’s got some major damage, I think. His psychoses were pretty intense—and unpredictable. I just hope you can help.”

Tazan grabbed one of the notebooks and opened it, flipping through the pages until he found what he was searching for. He laid it on the desktop and pointed with one of his claws. “I’ve been combing through my notes and think I may be able to reverse the damage—or at the very least lessen the effects.”

McCoy’s eyes lit up and he had to stop himself from leaping over the desk and kissing the elderly doctor. It was the news he had hoped for. “You’ve just made me the happiest man on this ship.”

“Please don’t get too excited, Leonard. I said I’d be able to help, but I didn’t say it would be easy. My machine was damaged.” His glow faded. “Either Ka’al’s men had a hand in it, or it was broken in the siege. Either way, I am going to need an expert set of hands to assist me. I’m confident it can be repaired, but I don’t know how long it will take.”

“Well, it just so happens that Scotty is the most gifted ‘tinkerer’ I’ve ever met. He could fix a warp core with rusty cotton gin parts and a pipe cleaner if he had to.” He tapped his fingers on his PADD and sent the Engineer a quick message. “So, what do you plan to do with the device? How do you think it can help Jim?”

“I believe that if I restore it to its former purpose—to aid with brain trauma—your Captain will be able to benefit from the therapy. I’ll need information from you on human physiology, but I think if we tweak the settings just right we’ll be able to help him.”

“Just tell me what you need and I’ll make sure you get it.” He stole a swift look at Jim’s vitals bouncing on his computer screen. “I’m going to be bringing Captain Kirk out of sedation tomorrow morning. I think I need to monitor him and his brain function for a while before we go messin’ around.”

“That would be a wise decision. I will require detailed medical readouts before I can narrow the treatment field on my device. I would hate to rush into a hasty treatment and risk damaging him further.”

“I couldn’t agree more.” Even though McCoy wanted nothing more than to have his “old Jim” back, he knew they couldn’t rush themselves. One slip-up and Jim could be spending the rest of his life in a psych ward instead of gallivanting off into the black. And then Leonard could never forgive himself.

“Mister Scott took my machine to Engineering, for safe-keeping. If it is alright with you, I would like to start in the morning.” Tazan sighed tiredly. “I admit that I am exhausted, and I wouldn’t be of any use to either you or Captain Kirk if I began the repairs in this state.”

“I’ll make sure you get a cozy bed to sleep in, then.” Again, he fluttered his fingers across his keyboard, sending a cabin request to the quartermaster. “You should have a stateroom within thirty minutes.”

“Many thanks, Leonard. And I promise you—we will save the Captain. We will save his mind.”

McCoy believed him.

He had to.

For Jim.

For…them.


	18. Chapter Eighteen

Shot in the Dark: Chapter Eighteen

 

                He recognized the feel of the mattress underneath him, the slight itch to the sheet pulled over his body. The sterile aroma of the air of the room, coupled with the incessant beeping of very familiar machinery meant only one thing.

He was in Sick Bay.

Jim tried to crack his eyes open, but found them still heavy from whatever drug McCoy had pumped into him hours—days?—before. It was always the same feeling. Heaviness, followed by floating. His fingers tingled as electricity seemed to surge through them. He tried to wiggle his toes, only to find them sluggish and unwilling to respond.

He hated this feeling.

He made a mental note to quit getting himself into trouble that landed him here.

Sensing movement next to him, he tried once more to force open his eyes. A warm hand enveloped his own and squeezed. Rustling off to the side indicated that whomever it was had stood up.

_“Jim?”_

_Bones…_

_“C’mon, kid. Open your eyes.”_

_I’m trying…_

_“Please…”_

Kirk exhaled slowly and did what he was told. The lights had been dimmed significantly—probably in anticipation, he thought—and he didn’t have to slam them shut at the usually offending brightness. He blinked rapidly to clear a film that seemed to coat his eyes and slowly turned his head towards McCoy.

The Doctor offered a hopeful, yet concerned smile. “Welcome back, darlin’.”

Jim felt like crying. He didn’t know if it was the drugs or the stress, but he had never been so happy to see Leonard in his life. An overwhelming swell of emotion overtook him, and he couldn’t stop the tears from forming. They slid down his cheeks and onto his pillow as his eyes closed again.

A gentle swipe of the Doctor’s fingers brushed them away. “You’re safe.”

“…dreaming?”

“Nope.” McCoy patted Kirk’s shoulder. “You’re on the ship.”

Kirk exhaled a shaky breath and waited.

Waited for the inevitable scolding that was more than likely on the tip of McCoy’s tongue. When—after a long moment—it didn’t come, he gingerly cracked open one eye and sized the Doctor up.

“What, no lecture?”

McCoy sighed and shook his head. “Not this time, Jim.”

“I…can’t believe it.”

The Doctor leaned in and kissed him softly on the forehead. His voice was a low whisper. “I’m out of energy to rag on you. I’m just glad you’re awake and talking.” He lingered for a long moment before backing up before sitting again. “How do you feel?”

Kirk brought his arm over his abdomen and gingerly rubbed his right flank. “My ribs hurt. Lemme guess…Ka’al?”

“Maybe. You did take quite a beating from him. But more than likely it was…” McCoy looked away from his patient.

“…you?”

The Doctor nodded solemnly.

“CPR again?”

“You’ve gotta knock this shit off, Jim.” McCoy’s hands clenched slightly in his lap.

“I thought you said you weren’t going to lecture me?”

“Fair enough. Besides, you’ve heard it all before.” Leonard’s expression softened. “Are you in any pain? Do you want me to give you something more?”

Kirk shook his head. “Nah…whatever you’ve got swimming around in my veins is still making me float.”

The pair sat quietly for a long moment, McCoy reaching over and taking Jim’s hand in his own. Kirk’s could feel his eyes fluttering shut as wave after wave of pain meds washed over him. Normally, he would enjoy the sensation, but today—today he wanted to stay awake. He had far too many questions to ask.

“Bones? Can you dial back the pain meds some?”

McCoy’s eyes bulged out of his head. “Are you out of your corn-fed mind? Why on Earth would you want me to do that?”

Jim blew out a long breath. “It’s making my head spin. And I need to talk to you with a clear mind.”

The Doctor scowled.

“Please?”

McCoy grunted in annoyance and tapped his fingers on the console next to the biobed. The numbers on the readout dropped, signaling the dosage change. “Give it a minute to take effect.”

“Thank you.”

Jim licked his dry lips, prompting McCoy to raise a small glass to his mouth. After taking a few sips, he let his head flop back on the pillow with a grimace. The pain meds were definitely wearing off.

“What happened to Ka’al?”

“Boy, you don’t beat around the bush with the sensitive questions, do you?” The Doctor set the glass down on the bedside cart. “Why don’t we do it this way? Tell me what _you_ remember.”

“We fought. I…” Jim shook his head, trying to dissipate the fog clouding his memory. “It’s like there’s time missing. I remember attacking him, and then…nothing. I woke up here.”

“He’s dead, Jim.”

Leonard’s words hit him like a ton of bricks. In that moment, without McCoy even having to elaborate—Jim knew that he had killed the tyrant.

“Did I do it with my bare hands?”

“I didn’t say _you_ killed him.”

“You didn’t have to.”

McCoy took a deep breath and let it out slowly. “You shot his face off.”

Jim didn’t respond. He didn’t know how to. He knew that he was more than likely instantly in trouble with Pike. Starfleet could take away his Captaincy. After all, he assassinated a political leader—even if he was a warmonger not recognized by the Federation.

“Jim? Did you hear me?”

“I heard you.” Jim’s voice was a hushed whisper. “Pike’s going to take the _Enterprise_ away from me for this.”

“No.” McCoy’s response was stern and direct.

“How do you know? Bones, I killed him! And what’s worse is…I don’t remember it!”

“Exactly!” The Doctor threw his hands up in the air. “Kid, that’s your ticket to salvation.”

“Salvation? What the hell are you talking about?” Kirk groaned and shifted his weight in the biobed as waves of pain washed over him. He was starting to regret having less analgesics in his system.

“You weren’t in your right mind. You had no idea what you were doing. Anyone with a brain in their heads will see that.”

Jim snorted. “Sometimes I wonder about some of those aging Admirals.”

“Pike is on your side.” McCoy scooted the rolling stool forward and leaned down close to Kirk. He squeezed his hand. “Don’t ever forget that Ka’al tortured you. He all but fried your mind. He deserved it. And Pike agrees.”

“But that doesn’t change the fact that he’s dead when he’s supposed to be on his way back to Earth to stand trial!” Jim groaned as his words left his mouth, pain erupting from his midsection. He took a moment to take a cleansing breath before continuing. “I’m a Starfleet Captain. I should have been in control.”

“Now you listen to me, dammit!” McCoy’s eyebrows furrowed as he clenched his jaw. “I’m not going to sit here and listen to you blame yourself. Sure, we could talk about why we had to go back down there in the first place…but that’s in the past. You put your life on the line to save me and in the process; you were beaten, tortured and nearly killed.”

Jim started to speak but was cut off by the Doctor’s finger across his lips.

“I’m not finished, so shut up.” He pulled his hand back. “Does that entitle you to kill Ka’al? Maybe…maybe not. But the fact of the matter is that he’s dead and gone—and good riddance to him. The fact that he was taken out by a Starfleet officer is irrelevant.”

“It’s not…”

“Yes it is! Jesus Christ, Jim…it’s over. Never again will we have to deal with him.” McCoy scrubbed a hand over his tired-looking eyes. “If you hadn’t have offed him, chances are someone in the resistance would have sooner or later.”

“But it would have been their right.”

“Who says you didn’t have the right?” Leonard’s eyes softened. “Ka’al threatened your very way of life—and everything that you held dear. I can’t say I wouldn’t have done the exact same thing if I were in your shoes.”

Jim didn’t reply. He sighed deeply and closed his eyes in exhaustion.

“Everything’s gonna be okay, kid.”

“I hope you’re right.”

Kirk could hear the smile on McCoy’s face. “I’m always right.”

Jim snorted softly, never opening his eyes. “I thought that was my line.”

“Yeah, but we both know it’s a lie when you say it.”

Kirk felt McCoy’s hand tighten around his own. He knew the Doctor had a point. Even when things seemed hopeless, he had always been there to comfort, to make Jim see reason. They sat in silence for several moments, McCoy rubbing his thumb across the back of Kirk’s hand.

Jim finally spoke. “Where’s Jax?”

“In the deep freeze. A few of the resistance members grabbed his body and kept it safe until we could get him back to the ship.”

“He was a good officer. He shouldn’t have had to die.”

“Every Starfleet officer knows the risks of his or her position.”

“Still…” Jim shook his head. “…he was young, Bones. He had his whole life ahead of him and now…now it’s just over.”

“How soon you forget just how young _you_ are. And that doesn’t stop you from runnin’ into situations that will more than likely get your ass blown to pieces.” McCoy stared him down. “Age has nothin’ to do with it, Jim. Duty is engrained in all of us; it’s what we’re all taught to do—honorably. And yes, sometimes that means giving your life for the ‘Fleet.”

Again, the man had a point. Jim turned his head on the pillow to look at him.

“Don’t you ever get tired of being right?”

“Nope.”

Jim smiled weakly, then let out a shaky breath. He clenched his jaw as his eyes squeezed shut. The pain was beginning to intensify.

“I’ve got some good news for you.” McCoy leaned forward and ran a few fingers through Kirk’s hair.

“You’re going to let me out today?”

The Doctor pursed his lips. “Not on your life, smart-ass.”

“’Was worth a shot…”

McCoy removed his hand from Jim’s hair. “The doctor that invented the machine—Tazan—he’s here on the ship. We think we can help with the after effects of the torture.”

“What, does he have some sort of magic serum that’ll fix everything?”

“Not exactly.” Leonard looked away for a moment.

Kirk eyed him suspiciously. Usually, his CMO was always straight-forward with him, and yet—here he was, trying to skirt around the subject. Jim had a sinking feeling he wasn’t going to like what he heard next.

“You know you don’t have to hide anything from me, Bones.”

“Tazan thinks he can help by…hooking you up again.”

Jim’s stomach leapt into his throat. The very thought of that machine touching him again made him feel as if he were going to vomit. His expression must have given away his fear, because McCoy immediately began to explain himself.

“Hear me out, alright? When we were on the planet, we had a…chat.”

“’Chat’?”

“Well, as nice of one as we could while he was setting me up for torture.” McCoy waved a hand in dismissal. “He told me about the true purpose of his machine—to help brain trauma victims by tapping into their own good memories.”

“And he thinks he can use it like that on me?”

“Precisely. He brought the device up here and Scotty and I are going to help him repair it.”

Jim swallowed hard and tried not to shake with fear. The mere fact that the device that had caused him such torment was now on the ship— _his ship_ —made him want to pull the blankets over his head like a child and hide. He could feel his heartbeat quicken and his blood pressure rise. The biobed immediately reacted, alarms blaring and the numbers on the screen turning red. McCoy muted them with a flick of his fingers, not even bothering to stand.

“Calm down, darlin’. Hear me out.” He placed a hand on Kirk’s shoulder. “Take a few deep breaths.”

Jim did as he was told and within a few minutes, his vitals had returned to normal. When it seemed he was confident in Kirk’s condition, McCoy continued.

“I have complete confidence in Tazan. He was one of the most highly touted scientists in the Guild before Ka’al took over. I’m certain he’ll be able to help you.”

“How can you be so sure?”

“Trust me, Jim. I would never allow him anywhere near you with that technology if I didn’t think you’d benefit from it.”

Kirk lay silently for a long moment, trying to decide whether or not to tell McCoy to piss off with his theory. He knew he should trust Leonard—and he really wanted to believe that he could really be helped by Tazan—but the nagging feeling of dread that came with the thought of that machine touching him again made him very reluctant.

He closed his eyes, and the images of that horrible room came flashing into his mind. He could actually smell the moldy air again; feel the thick plastic band tightening around his forehead as the edges pressed into his skin. He remembered the searing pain in his head as the device turned on, and the sickening nausea that followed after the session was done. His body had shook in the throes of seizures and he could still see McCoy’s terrified face as he looked up at him through the rusty bars that separated their cells.

He didn’t want to feel that way again.

He wouldn’t allow it.

“I’m not going to do it, Bones.” His eyes snapped open and he stared at the Doctor.

The older man pursed his lips. “Don’t be stubborn, Jim. It’s not going to be like the last time. I promise everything will work.”

“Don’t you remember what it was like? Why would I willingly submit to that again?”

“Because you know deep down that it’ll help you.”

Kirk sighed and looked away. “And if I still say ‘no’? Will you force me?”

McCoy stared at him in silence for several seconds before responding. “I’d _sternly advise_ you to go ahead with the treatment. But…” He blew out a long breath. “…no. I wouldn’t force you.”

Jim could see the fear and hurt in McCoy’s eyes. He could just hear the man’s inner monologue now, screaming at him to quit being such an infant and to trust him. And the fact that he admitted that, even though it probably went against everything he was feeling right now, he wouldn’t push him to get help—that told Jim just how much the Doctor respected him.

And loved him.

In that instant, Kirk realized he was being stupid. There was a treatment right in front of him, and he was avoiding it because he was as scared as a child.

_You’re a Starfleet Captain._

_Man up._

“Alright…let’s do it.”

McCoy didn’t try and hide his surprise. “A minute ago you said you wouldn’t. What changed?”

“Nothing. I’m still scared shitless.”

“Then what gives?”

Kirk reached out for McCoy’s hand, which the Doctor willingly accepted. “I trust you. Even though every fiber of my soul is telling me to steer clear of that damn thing, I—“

The Doctor leaned in a kissed the young Captain, cupping his hands around his cheeks. After a long moment, they separated.

“I love you, Jim.”

Kirk inhaled deeply in response, wincing at the pain erupting from what seemed like his entire body.

“Are you ready to stop being a hero and let me turn up the meds again?”

Kirk nodded weakly, eyes still shut. He heard McCoy’s fingers tap on the machinery next to him and within seconds, soothing warmth flooded through his veins. He was silent as the medications washed over him, allowing himself to enjoy the floating feeling he was experiencing. The sounds of the room began to fade, and he was barely aware that the Doctor had once again clasped his hand.

 

XxX   XxX   XxX   XxX   XxX   XxX  

 

 

The small room off of Main Engineering was cramped and hot.

McCoy was amazed at just how much junk the Chief had managed to squirrel away in the short amount of time he had actually been living on the ship. The shelves and alcoves were littered with wiring, spare parts and electronic components—some of which he had never seen in his lifetime. He was pretty sure a fair amount of them were alien—and possibly ill-gotten.

He and Scotty stood shoulder-to-shoulder next to a scratched and dirty workbench, the Xentian scientist flanking the other side. They were all hunched over, each one’s hands bumping the others’ as they nipped wires, connected circuits and re-routed vital mechanisms within the guts of the damaged machine.

They had been working for the better part of three hours in this less-than-wonderful environment, and it was starting to take its toll on not only McCoy, but the other two men as well. The Doctor looked up to see Tazan pinch the bridge of his thin reptilian nose with clawed hands. He held his fingers there for a long moment before releasing them with a long, tired sigh. Scotty wasn’t faring much better, the Engineer rolling his neck from side to side eliciting a loud pop.

“Jesus, man! That’s not good for your vertebrae!”

Scotty rubbed the base of his skull. “Aye, it might no’ be good for it, but it feels pure fantastic!”

Tazan snipped one more wire to size, then carefully connected it to a small metal lead within the machine. He leaned back with a satisfied smile and exhaled deeply. “Now all we have to do is make sure it works.”

Scotty reached for several wires with clips on the ends and proceeded to attach them to various parts of the machine. “I’ll run a diagnostic through the ship’s computer. It’ll take her a while, but the old girl’ll tell us if this box ‘o bolts is runnin’.”

“Thank you, Mister Scott.” The elderly Xentian sat down on a small stool and watched the Engineer work.

McCoy followed suit and took a seat on a stack of storage crates. “Now we wait, I guess.”

“That’ll do it!” Scotty stepped back from the tabletop and activated a panel on the wall, starting the scan cycle. “Ten minutes and we should be good.” He rubbed his stomach. “Ach, I’m so hungry I could eat a scabby-heided wean!”

“I’m almost afraid to ask what the hell you just said. ‘Sounds terrifying…and possibly illegal.”

The Chief Engineer scoffed. “Ya just don’ know how ta’ speak proper, that’s all. I was perfectly clear.”

“For Edinburgh, maybe.”

“For your information, I’m from Linlithgow.”

“Son, that’s like tryin’ to get me to tell Dallas and Fort Worth apart. Same shit, different city.”

Scotty raised his fists in mock combat. “Them’s fightin’ words, laddie! Put up or shut up!”

Tazan chuckled at the exchange between the two men. “I can tell you are good friends, gentlemen. It’s refreshing to be able to laugh once again.”

“Well, stick around this ship long enough and you’ll definitely get a good dose of humor. Jim’s notorious for pranks.” McCoy pushed Scotty’s fists down with a smirk and a slap on the shoulder.

“I was known as quite the trickster among my colleagues. I may just give your Captain a worthy adversary…if I’m allowed to remain on your mighty ship.”

Scotty smiled broadly. “Oh, don’t ya worry there. There’s no way we’d let the ‘Fleet ship ya back.” His stomach rumbled loudly. “Aye, this scan needs ta’ be finished soon…my guts are growlin’.”

Tazan stared off into space as he reminisced. “I think one of the things I’m going to miss most about Xentia is my garden. I grew the most wonderful fruits and vegetables. My stews rivaled those of our greatest chefs.”

“I’m pretty sure Mak’ai fiddled wi’ the replicators. You can get all your native foods whenever ye want ‘em.”

McCoy chimed in, his stomach suddenly mirroring that of his comrade. “You know what I miss? My grandmother’s fried chicken. It made the whole house smell like peanut oil for a week after, but it worth it. And she’d make whipped potatoes with giblet gravy on the side. Heaven on Earth.”

“Did she ever make peach pie?” Scotty licked his lips. “I’ve only been ta’ Georgia once, but I think I ate m’weight in peach pie.”

“She did, but I never ate it. Contrary to popular belief, not everyone in Georgia likes peaches. I personally can’t stand them.”

Tazan leaned forward, interested. “What is a peach?”

“It’s a stone fruit—means it has a pit in the middle. Super sweet and juicy. They grow on trees back on Earth.”

“I believe we have a similar fruit. My mother would crush them into a puree and bake them in small tins.”

Scotty pouted slightly. “All this talk ‘o home makes me miss Haggis. The replicator can’t do it justice.”

“Ha-ggis?” Tazan cocked his head.

“I don’t know how the hell you kooky Scots eat that stuff.”

Scotty puffed his chest out with pride. “You Southern boys wouldn’t know a good thing if it bit ‘ya on the arse.” He turned to Tazan. “It’s minced up sheep’s meat mixed with oatmeal and spices.”

McCoy interrupted. “Define ‘meat’.”

“Y’know, the usual—heart, liver an’ lungs.”

“Lungs are for breathing, not eating.” The Doctor crossed his hands over his chest defiantly.

“See if I share wit’ ya then, spoil-sport.” He turned back to the Xentian doctor. “Now, when the meat mixture is ready, it gets stuffed back inta’ the beast’s stomach and baked.”

“It sounds interesting. I think I would very much like to try it someday.”

McCoy’s eyes bulged. “Are you serious? The mere thought of consuming that makes me want to puke.”

“Hey, ta’ each his own, _Doctor_.” Scotty closed his eyes in pure joy and rubbed his stomach. “An’ it’s no’ the same unless it comes wi’ neeps and tatties.”

“Neeps and ‘titties’? Christ, man, is there anything you guys won’t eat?”

“Aye! No’ ‘titties’, ya’ mad bastard! _Tat-ties_. Turnips and potatoes, y’lousy Yank.”

McCoy loved fanning Scotty’s flames. “Ohhhh—‘tatties’. I thought it was odd that you guys would eat…nevermind.”

Tazan chuckled from across the workbench. “I haven’t the slightest idea what you’re talking about, but it is entertaining nonetheless. I can tell that even though you two poke at each other, you share mutual respect and friendship. I’m honored to share your company today.”

“Well, it’s hard ta’ be friends with a bloke who doesn’t like peaches, but he’s a great drinkin’ buddy so I’ll let him slide a wee bit.” Scotty clapped McCoy on the back with a broad smile.

“I’m still not eating haggis, no matter how much you flatter me.”

The three men laughed as the computer signaled the completion of the scan. Scotty stood up, stretched his back and approached the console.

“Looks like she’s all ready! Circuits are clean, pathways are clear and the motherboard’s perfectly connected.” He patted the device lovingly. “We did a bang-up job bringin’ this wee bugger back to life.”

Tazan inspected the readout. “I have to say, I had my doubts when we first started—I mean, this thing was in pieces. But you two have amazed me. Your skills are unmatched.”

“Scotty’s the best in the fleet when it comes to fixing things.”

The Engineer beamed with pride. “’An’ Doctor McCoy has the steadiest hands in the galaxy.”

“I thank you both from the bottom of my heart. Hopefully our hard work will not have been in vain. Only time will tell if our efforts will help your Captain.”

Scotty gathered up the wires connected to the machine and moved it onto a small hover-cart. “Well, let’s get this lass back to Sick Bay and workin’ on the Cap’n. I’m sure he’s anxious to get back to normal.”

McCoy watched as the two men pushed the cart out the door.

_Him and me both._

_This had better work._

_It will…_

_...it has to…_

_…I promised him._

 

 

XxX   XxX   XxX   XxX   XxX   XxX

 

 

“Just relax, Jim.”

McCoy wiped the beads of sweat from the young Captain’s brow before sliding the flexible band around his head. Kirk flinched slightly as he settled it in place.

“How long will this take?” Jim looked up at him with worried eyes.

“Dunno.”

Tazan busied himself with the wires, connecting the leads that lead from the band to the machine at Kirk’s bedside. McCoy had to admit, in the crisp, bright light of Medical, the device didn’t look nearly as foreboding as it did back on Xentia. But that didn’t lessen his nerves any.

The Doctor lowered the head of the biobed slightly, resting Kirk at a slight incline. Jim’s fingers tapped nervously on his abdomen.

“Try not to worry. We’re in Sick Bay and if anything goes south, I’ll disconnect you faster than a Klabnian Fire Tea’ll burn your guts up.”

Kirk sighed and closed his eyes. “Then I guess I’m ready whenever you are.”

“I’ll be right here the whole time monitoring you.” McCoy squeezed his hand, wanting nothing more than to kiss him gently to reassure him. But, with eyes watching from all around, he knew he had to be professional. “And I’ll be in this exact same spot when you wake up.”

The Doctor nodded to Tazan, and the elderly Xentian activated the device. Leonard watched as Jim’s limbs twitched, then relaxed and his eyes rolled back into his head. The hand he had been holding his own went limp, but he never released it.

“I’m going to watch his vitals like a hawk. If I see the first sign of trouble, you disconnect him, got it?”

Tazan nodded with a smile. “Of course, Leonard.”

McCoy looked down to his lover—his Captain—and watched his eyes flutter under their lids.

_Here goes nothin’ kid._

XxX   XxX   XxX   XxX   XxX   XxX  

 

_“It’s just up here, Bones! C’mon, light a fire under your ass!”_

_Jim looked over his shoulder to see Leonard, huffing and puffing, up the hill behind him. The twinkling lights of San Francisco and the Academy flickered underneath them, the setting sun starting to dip under the horizon._

_“You said this was a ‘small hill’, you jackass! It’s a goddamn mountain!”_

_“I promise it’ll be worth it!” Kirk beckoned to him with his hand, then pointed farther up the slope. “Seriously, we’re almost there.”_

_McCoy grumbled and steadied himself on the sliding pebbles beneath his feet and followed Jim until they reached the plateau top. Jim glanced back to make sure his friend had successfully made it, then turned his attention to the cityscape below them._

_It was truly breathtaking._

_The warm July air was scented with the ocean and just a little thick with humidity. Kirk was pleasantly surprised when he saw no one else had decided to come up to his ‘secret spot’. He figured the somewhat treacherous climb would deter most folks anyway. And that’s why he liked this little place so much. It was isolated and peaceful—the perfect area to sit and think._

_“Jesus, Jim! I think I’m going to have a coronary!” McCoy huffed and puffed, hunched over with his hands planted firmly on his thighs. “I don’t know why I let you talk me into this!”_

_Kirk took a few steps backwards and clapped his friend on the shoulder. “Because I knew you’d appreciate this incredible view, that’s why.” He pointed out at the scenic vista as McCoy straightened up. “And why are you bitching so much? You’re a conditioned Starfleet Cadet. A little climb like this should be a piece of cake!”_

_“Maybe in daylight!” He stretched his arms behind his back before looking out at the horizon. “Wow…you were right about the view, though.”_

_The two men stood silently for a long moment, admiring the city below them. The sun had finally set, leaving them in darkness._

_Jim shrugged his knapsack off and opened it, producing a blanket. Setting it down on the grass, he knelt and motioned for his friend to do the same. As McCoy obliged, Jim leaned back on his arms and got comfortable._

_“It shouldn’t be long now. It’s completely dark.”_

_McCoy sighed in the darkness. “I don’t think I’ve seen fireworks in ages. Joanna’s scared of ‘em, so we never took her.”_

_“I love them. There’s just something magical about them.”_

_“Magic’s got nothin’ to do with it.”_

_Kirk huffed. “I know that…it’s just…” He stared up at the sky—up at the stars. “…as a kid, you don’t know about chemicals and accelerants and perfect mix ratios to attain certain colors. It just happens. Like magic.”_

_And, as if on cue, the sky lit up with sparkling blossoms of colors._

_Jim stared up at the heavens, perfectly content in the moment. He had his best friend at his side and magic happening before his very eyes. He quickly glanced over at McCoy for a split second, the glow from the fireworks illuminating his face at intervals. Jim smiled softly in the darkness as his friend did the same._

_One after another, the colorful aerial displays exploded with brilliance, their remnant ashes floating down towards the city on the ocean breeze._

_Too soon—in Jim’s opinion—it was over, and the two men were left in the darkness once more._

_McCoy’s voice broke the silence. “Well kid, you were right. That was totally worth the risk of breaking my neck.”_

_“I told you. Fireworks from the ground are one thing—but fireworks from this high up? It’s like you can almost touch them.”_

_“You’d burn your fingerprints off.”_

_Jim chuckled softly. “You’re dumb.”_

_McCoy just grumbled at him._

_Kirk rubbed his hands up and down his biceps, trying to dissipate the sudden chill that overtook him. He regretted not bringing a sweatshirt. Rustling next to him caught his attention, as his friend stood and stretched his back._

_“Uh, Jim?”_

_He turned to face McCoy, finding a familiar scowl crossing his roommate’s face. Before Jim could speak, the older cadet began to grouse again._

_“There’s no way we’re gettin’ down in this pitch black.”_

_Kirk smirked in the low light. He knew that being stranded was going to be a distinct possibility—and he had come prepared. He patted the blanket next to him._

_“You worry too much, Bones.”_

_“I worry too much? Maybe that’s because you give me weekly coronaries as a result of all sorts of shenanigans!”_

_Jim laughed. “’Shenanigans’? Who talks like that?”_

_“I do.” McCoy punched him in the arm as he sat again. “So now we’re going to freeze to death up here because you didn’t plan ahead. Just great.”_

_Reaching for his backpack, Kirk silently unpacked a small lantern, another two more blankets and a variety of pre-packed snack foods. “Who says I didn’t plan ahead?”_

_McCoy snatched one of the quilts from Jim’s hands and grumbled as he wrapped himself in the soft cloth. “If I didn’t know any better, I’d say you planned this.”_

_Kirk shrugged. “Not so much ‘planned’ as thought about every scenario.”_

_“That’s planning.”_

_Jim sat silently, staring out at the shining cityscape at the bottom of the hill._

_“What if it rains?”_

_“It’s not going to.”_

_McCoy huffed in annoyance. “Whatever. Gimme some of those chips.”_

_They sat for a good hour—talking, eating and slowly freezing. Both had cocooned themselves in the extra blankets and had migrated closer to each other for warmth._

_“Who the hell thought it would be this cold in July? If we were in Georgia, we’d be sweating our balls off.”_

_Jim shivered slightly and replied with a laugh. “It’s hit or miss in Iowa. Either it’s hotter than hell, or there’s a tornado barreling towards us.”_

_“Tornadoes scare the shit out of me.”_

_“So, there’s tornadoes and flying. What else are you scared of, Bones?”_

_McCoy crumpled up an empty cookie wrapper and shoved it in his knapsack as he answered very matter-of-factly. “Losing the people that I love. What about you? You’re the most fearless son-of-a-bitch I know.”_

_Kirk sighed and looked up to the stars. “Falling into my father’s shadow.”_

_“With the reputation you’re carving out for yourself here at the Academy, you’re in no danger of that, I assure you.”_

_“Thanks.” Kirk replied with a small hint of uncertainty in his voice._

_The older man scooted closer and nudged him. “I mean it. You’re not going to be known as ‘George Kirk’s kid’. You’re your own man. You’ll have your own legacy, and it’ll be grand.”_

_Jim smiled in the dark. In that moment, he knew McCoy wasn’t just blowing smoke. He had a bright future in Starfleet, that he was proving every nosy officer and reluctant Admiral wrong with each passing day. He’d promised Pike he’d graduate in three years, and he was well on his way._

_Someday he’d have his own ship._

_Someday he’d blast off into the black—McCoy at his side as CMO._

_He’d make sure of it._

_“I’m cold, Bones. Keep me warm?”_

_“Shut up, you baby. You decided to drag us up here; you deal with your own frozen ass.” He lay down on the blanket, using his backpack as a makeshift pillow. His eyes closed soon after._

_Jim followed suit, snuggling himself under the quilt. He turned on his side to face his friend. McCoy was already fast asleep._

_“Happy Fourth of July, Bones.”_

_The older man replied with a soft snore._

XxX   XxX   XxX   XxX   XxX   XxX  

 

“Well I’ll be damned. I think its working.”

McCoy stared at the various readouts bouncing and blinking above Jim’s biobed. His brain activity—where it had once been chaotic and uncertain—was now calm and showing signs of normality. He didn’t want to allow himself to breathe a sigh of relief just yet—but he knew that reward wouldn’t be far off.

Tazan patted Kirk’s still hand. “I am relieved.”

The Doctor quirked an eyebrow. “You didn’t think it was going to work, did you?”

“Honestly? I was unsure.”

“Well, don’t tell that to Spock. It can be our little secret.” McCoy scrubbed a hand over his tired eyes.

Tazan began to deactivate the device. “I believe we can safely disconnect now. Your Captain seems to be at peace. The brain and body are at rest, healing from the inside-out.”

“How long does it usually take to regain consciousness?”

The old Xentian carefully lifted the band from Kirk’s head. “In clinical trials back on my planet, most patients came to within three to four hours. Because of human physiology, I suspect it may take longer. The human brain works differently from that of our people.”

“I hope that doesn’t mean this machine will have detrimental effects on Jim.” McCoy began to worry. Had he just made a huge mistake?

“I do not foresee any adverse effects. Captain Kirk will recover in due time and will regain his normal life once more.”

The Doctor offered the scientist a warm but hesitant smile. “My proof will be when he opens his eyes and talks to me.”

“And you shall receive that proof soon, Leonard. I promise.” Tazan gathered the band and wires and laid them on the cart bearing the machine. “I will leave you to monitor him while he sleeps. You both deserve some time alone with each other. I am…happy for you both that you have such a…strong relationship.”

Leonard just nodded in gratitude and turned his attention back to Jim. As Tazan opened the door and began to leave, he called after him. “Thank you for everything. You risked your life for us on more than one occasion.”

“I know your Captain would have done the same for me—as would you.”

The door closed behind the alien doctor, leaving Jim and McCoy alone for the first time in hours. Leonard looked down at his chronometer. It was only nineteen-hundred hours, but it felt as if it were after midnight. He pulled a rolling stool close to the biobed and sat down.

“Computer, tint the windows and dim the lights to fifty percent.”

Jim’s breathing was slow and steady in the quiet room. McCoy tapped a few commands into the computer before hunching over and laying his head on Kirk’s pillow. He could only stay in that position for a few moments before his back began to tense. Sighing, he sat back up and rubbed the back of his neck, feeling a knot forming just beneath the skin. He took a deep, cleansing breath and finally allowed himself to feel relief.

“Well Jim, I think we did it.”

Kirk responded in the way only he could. His vitals spiked slightly at the sound of McCoy’s voice. A small smile crossed the Doctor’s lips when he realized that Jim could probably hear him.

“You’re going to be fine, darlin’. Just rest and when you’re ready to come back…I’ll be waiting.”

He leaned over and kissed Kirk tenderly before grabbing his PADD and opening up the pile of files waiting for his signature.

 

XxX   XxX   XxX   XxX   XxX   XxX

 

 

_A/N:   Many thanks to my friend DrMcCoyFan for her knowledge of all things haggis and Scotland. I owe you some American candy…which may or may not have been on sale last week and is now waiting patiently to be sent across the pond. xoxo_


	19. Chapter Nineteen

Shot in the Dark: Chapter Nineteen

                The startling sound of blaring alarms almost knocked McCoy out of his seat.

His eyes shot open as he scrambled forward to find Jim thrashing in the biobed, his body rigid with seizures. The young Captain’s eyes were wide open, pupils blown wide as he shook. His hands were clenched into tight fists and saliva dribbled out of the corners of his mouth.

“Jesus Christ! Bonham, get in here now!” McCoy grabbed onto both sides of Kirk’s head and tried to steady him. He quickly ran a finger along the inside of Jim’s mouth to make sure he wouldn’t gag on his own tongue. “Damn you , Jim! Don’t you pull this shit! Not now!”

Nurse Bonham flew into the private room, M’Benga hot on her heels.

“Len, what the hell’s happening?” The other doctor immediately began studying the readout on the bioscreen. His brows furrowed almost instantly as he assisted his friend in steadying the Captain. M’Benga’s strong hands held Kirk’s thighs flat to the bed.

“He’s having a seizure!” McCoy held Jim’s shoulders down against the biobed as he lowered it. He began to shout for a hypospray of anti-seizure medication, only to have it pressed into his hand before the sentence left his lips. He looked away from Jim for a split second to see the concerned face of Nurse Bonham. He knew he didn’t even have to ask if she had gotten the dosage right. They were old pros at treating Jim.

With a steady hand, he administered the drugs into the trembling Captain and held his breath as he waited for the meds to work. His heart was beating almost as fast as Jim’s as he tried not to faint. All the memories of everything they had gone though came flooding back as he silently willed Kirk to stop shaking.

In an instant, he was taken back to Mak’ai’s humble home on Xentia, and could feel himself dragging Jim out from underneath the bed, blood soaking the bandages from the field surgery as he quaked. He could see his hands digging in Kirk’s abdomen as he found an errant bullet fragment. His muscles ached like they did they day he spent at Jim’s bedside in that god-awful chair, waiting for any sign that the young Captain would come back to him.

And then they did it all over again in a stinking prison cell.

McCoy screwed his eyes shut for a brief moment as he tried to take a cleansing breath. All around him, he could hear the alarms screaming, medical staff fluttering around and Kirk’s body moving against the sheets of the bed. Jim’s muscles tightened under his fingertips and he begged whatever god happened to be hovering around the ship at the moment to just make it stop.

_I can’t take much more of this._

_I can’t…._

_Listen to yourself._

_Jim’s the one in pain—in danger._

_Not you._

_Pull yourself together and save him._

_Like always._

As the last thought fluttered through his brain, he felt Kirk’s body began to relax, the monitors beginning to finally quiet. The breath McCoy was holding blew across his lips and he opened his eyes.

Jim lay sweating before him, eyes drooping shut until they finally closed. His mouth hung open still, raspy breaths escaping in bursts as his body calmed. McCoy looked down the Captain’s body and watched as Kirk’s fists unclenched and his knees unlocked. Finally willing to let go of Jim’s shoulders, McCoy straightened up and fixed his attention to the bioscreen.

“Len, I don’t understand.” M’Benga shook his head and scowled. “I thought he was on the road to recovery.”

“So did I, Geoff.” The Doctor’s fingers fluttered over the keypad on the screen, bringing up more vital statistics. He grumbled as Jim’s brain readouts came into view. “Something happened. His brain activity is all over the place.”

_I never should have tried this._

_What if I damaged his brain permanently?_

“This shouldn’t be a happening. Everything was working perfectly with the machine, we went over every little det—“

McCoy’s mouth went dry and he felt his stomach turn over.

How could they have been so stupid? How could they have…

_…missed it._

“Get Tazan in here right away!”

He ran a few fingers through Jim’s sweaty hair, onlookers be damned, and hoped his suspicions were correct.

…and that they could fix this.

 

XxX   XxX   XxX   XxX   XxX   XxX  

 

“Doctor McCoy, I am so very sorry.” Tazan’s skin glowed a pale yellow as he hung his head. A thin, clawed hand gently clasped Kirk’s. “I blame myself fully for this oversight. The serum should have been the first thing on my mind.”

McCoy watched as the man wrestled with his emotions. He could tell that the elderly scientist was teetering on the brink. And he was right there with him. The serum he spoke of had been injected into them both before all their torture sessions. McCoy had never really thought much about it, or what it contained. Had he wanted to know the chemical composition, he was pretty sure he wouldn’t have received an answer anyway. Ka’al was way too busy making sure he and Jim suffered.

McCoy shook his head. “Don’t blame yourself. We were both so eager to test it that we forgot.”

_So stupid._

_I endangered Jim._

_He could have died._

_I should have my commission taken away._

_Who the hell doesn’t test first?_

_You…you dumb hick._

He was snapped from his thoughts by Tazan’s hissing voice.

“But it was and is such an integral part of the process. I should be put in prison for allowing your Captain to be harmed like this.”

“You listen here, Tazan.” McCoy’s voice was stern and unwavering. “We’re in uncharted territory here. Who knows if this is even the reason for the failure? The most important thing here now is that we fix this. There’s no time for a pity party…for either of us. Jim can’t afford it.”

The Xentian nodded and took a deep breath. “You’re right, of course.”

“Now, do you think you can synthesize an acceptable serum to administer? Do we even try it again?”

“Yes on both fronts.” Tazan looked up at the vitals on the screen. “When the machine is activated, it alters brain chemistry with the currents. The serum is vital in making sure the treatment—or torture—is successful.”

“How long?”

The older man pursed his lips in thought. “Two days, maximum. May I have access to your lab?”

“Of course. Use anything you need. My staff will help you with anything you require.” McCoy hesitated for a moment before continuing. “…you think this’ll work?”

“Nothing is a given in life, Doctor McCoy. My people have learned that the hard way, as I’m sure yours have as well. But I will say that if it takes until my last day in this Universe, I will work to cure your Captain. I owe him that much at least.” The alien doctor gave Kirk’s hand a gentle squeeze before taking his leave.

McCoy plopped down on the small stool next to the biobed and let out a long, billowing breath. He was so exhausted, mentally and physically. Reaching out to take Jim’s hand in his own, he was comforted by the warmth of his skin. Even though the situation was—at best—a shit storm, Jim had found a way to stay alive. If he knew anything about Jim Kirk it was that the damn fool was resilient, and wasn’t going to go down without a fight.

Sighing, Leonard stretched his free hand up to the computer terminal and lowered the sedatives coursing through Kirk’s veins. He would need him to be awake when they tried again. He looked at his chronometer and figured he had a good hour before Jim regained consciousness. Closing his eyes, he tried to get in a quick cat-nap before everything happened.

 

XxX   XxX   XxX   XxX   XxX   XxX  

 

_“Bones?”_

McCoy felt fingers weakly constrict his hand. He reciprocated the action as he cracked his eyes open. Jim stared at him, eyes droopy from the meds that were slowly dissipating from his system. The Doctor sat up straight and rubbed his eyes with his free hand before leaning forward to engage Kirk.

“Right here, Jim.”

“My head hurts.”

Leonard placed his lips on Jim’s forehead and let them linger there for a long moment. “Better now?”

The young Captain’s eyes fluttered shut as he sighed. “A little.”

McCoy leaned back once more, never letting go of Kirk’s hand. “You want something for pain?”

“No. I can manage.”

“You sure? You don’t always have to be the hero.”

“I’m okay, really.” Kirk offered a weak smile and looked around the room. “Something happened when I was asleep, didn’t it? My head wouldn’t hurt this bad otherwise.”

McCoy silently hung his head.

“C’mon, Bones. Tell me the truth.”

The older man raised his head and locked eyes with Kirk. “You had a seizure.”

“Another one?” Jim’s brows furrowed with a hint of confusion. “Why?”

_Oh God, I’m going to have to tell him._

_…tell him I screwed up._

“Jim…” McCoy blew out a long breath and refused to make eye contact with Kirk. “…I made a terrible mistake.”

“What are you talking about?   You saved me.”

“No. I endangered you and you paid for it dearly.”

Kirk tightened his grip on McCoy’s fingers. “You never did anything of the sort.”

“Yes I did.” Leonard pulled his hand from Jim’s grasp and ran it through his hair with a heavy sigh. “I forgot an integral step in treating you with the machine. And now it may have damaged your brain.”

“I don’t feel damaged.” Jim tapped his forehead with a weak smile. “Out of sorts, maybe. But definitely not damaged.”

“You don’t get it, Jim. My stupid mistake caused this seizure.”

“We all make mistakes, Bones. Believe me; you’re talking to the master here.”

“Dammit, Jim! Why are you being so forgiving about this?”

Kirk tried to sit up more in the biobed, shifting his weight onto his elbows for leverage. McCoy adjusted the height of the head of the bed to assist him. “You’re a doctor, Bones. Even doctors are allowed to screw up sometimes.”

“Not when it comes to the treatment of Starfleet Captains. I’m the CMO for Christ’s sakes.”

“Alright then, what do you want me to do, fire you? Give you an official reprimand? I hear the beds in the brig are really uncomfortable, wanna try one?”

The Doctor responded with an annoyed grunt.

“You’re human. You can’t expect yourself to be a robot like Spock all the time.”

“Don’t even start comparing me to that boogeyman.” McCoy’s lips curled into an almost unnoticeable smirk.

“See? I knew I could get you to react.”

“Knock it off. I’m tryin’ to repent here and you’re making jokes.”

“Everything’s gonna be okay, Bones.”

McCoy pursed his lips. “I’d like to try again, Jim. This time with the serum we forgot. Tazan is positive it’ll work.”

“Oh yeah, that stuff that felt like acid going in?”

“It’s necessary. When we forgot it, it messed with your brain chemistry.”

“Well, I guess we’d better get cracking. I need to get back on duty.”

“Jim…” McCoy hesitated. “…I’m going to test it on myself first. I can’t risk another seizure.”

Kirk’s face flushed red. “No way. You’re the Chief Medical Officer. The ship can’t run without you if something goes wrong.”

“And the ship can’t function without a Captain.”

“But you’re not even having side effects from the torture. There’s no good reason why we should risk it.” Jim shifted in the bed, reaching out for McCoy’s hand once more.

“There is too a good reason—and he’s lying right here in front of me.” McCoy accepted his outstretched hand. “Jim, let me do this. I made the mistake of not testing it last time. We need to get your brain under control or Starfleet’ll have a field day.”

“I’m still in danger?”

“Your brain waves are still uneven and worrisome. I’m afraid you’ll go manic again, and we can’t have that happening on the bridge.”

“I’m not going to allow this. Find another way to run a diagnostic or something.” The young Captain crossed his arms over his chest like a petulant child. “You’re not testing it on yourself and that’s final.”

“Don’t make me pull rank on you, Jim. You’re being stubborn.”

“I’m the Captain!” Kirk’s voice was fierce. McCoy could tell that Jim immediately regretted getting so worked up, as he grabbed his side and winced as he yelled.

“…and I love you.” Leonard eased Jim back onto the pillows. “I know that you don’t want me to do this, but we don’t have another choice. We didn’t have time to test the device last time and I jumped the gun. I’m not going to make that mistake again.”

Kirk pouted. “You’d really override me?”

“Absolutely.”

“There’s no way you’re going to listen to me, is there?”

McCoy smirked. “My mind is made up, darlin’. You could say that your impulsiveness is finally rubbing off on me.”

“Don’t tell Spock.” Kirk sighed deeply, his eyes beginning to flutter shut. “I’m tired, Bones.”

“Get some rest. Tazan will be ready for me soon, and I’ll be back before you know it.”

“How long?”

McCoy leaned in and gently kissed Kirk’s forehead as he stood. “Not sure. M’Benga wants me to be monitored for at least twelve hours after, so…tomorrow afternoon?”

“Be careful.” Jim’s eyes closed.

“Always.” McCoy walked away from the biobed, stopping at the door to take one last look at Kirk, who had quickly fallen asleep.

_I better not be making a huge mistake._

_This can’t fail._

“Computer, lights twenty percent.”

 

XxX   XxX   XxX   XxX   XxX   XxX  

 

“Goddamn, I forgot how awful that shit feels goin’ in.”

Tazan removed the needle from Leonard’s vein and blotted the tiny droplet of blood away with a piece of gauze.

“My apologies, Doctor McCoy. The chemical compounds within the serum have that effect—there was just no way to decrease it without losing potency.”

“He’s just being a baby.” M’Benga clapped McCoy on the shoulder with a smirk as he eased him back onto the biobed.

“Geoff, remember what we talked about, alright?” McCoy’s expression was laced with apprehension as Tazan slid the device’s headband on. “If something goes wrong…”

“…I’ll make sure the Captain is taken care of.” He offered a warm smile. “But we both know nothing’s going to happen, so shut up.”

McCoy blew out a long breath, feeling the slowing effect of the serum beginning to take hold on his brain. “Let’s get this show on the road, then. Switch me on.”

Tazan nodded and reached out his fingers towards the controls of the machine. His clawed hand hesitated for a moment as it hovered over mechanism before he activated it.

McCoy winced as the current started, but was pleasantly surprised to feel that the sensation didn’t last like the last time he had been under the influence of the machine. Within seconds he felt as if he was afloat on clouds and his eyes began to close.

 

XxX   XxX   XxX   XxX   XxX   XxX  

 

_The night air was hot and humid, and tiny beads of sweat rolled down his neck, soaking the collar of the thin tee shirt he wore._

_The sky flashed off in the distance, thunder rumbling moments later. He instinctively cradled the bundle in his arms closer to his body, as if to protect it from the approaching storm._

_The baby never stirred, the fluff of downy hair atop her head rustling ever so slightly from the coming storm’s gust front. A light blanket covered her body, her tiny toes peeking out from underneath the pink fabric. She had two fingers in her mouth and sucked away contentedly in her father’s arms._

_It was their first night home from the hospital, and little Joanna already had her father wrapped around her little finger. He wanted nothing more than to hold her in his arms forever right here on this porch. Leaning down, he placed a soft kiss on her forehead._

_Lightning flashed again, much closer to the old house this time. The following thunder was arguably louder, signaling that the storm was coming fast. Leonard felt the reverberation rattle through the wooden planks of the porch and up through his body. A soft whimper escaped the baby’s lips as her brows furrowed. Within seconds, she had erupted into a full-blown cry. Her toothless gums glistened in her wide-open mouth as she sobbed._

_Instinctively, McCoy began to bounce her gently in his arms, using the palm of his hand to lightly tap on her behind as he moved. Swaying back and forth, he comforted his newborn daughter._

_“Shhhh, darlin’. Daddy’s gotcha.”_

_Joanna’s fingers had slipped from her mouth and she struggled to find them. Her cries became louder as she tried to unsuccessfully to self-soothe. McCoy offered her his own pinkie, and she immediately calmed as her little lips curled around his finger._

_“I guess this takes ‘wrapped around a finger’ to a whole new level, huh JoJo?”_

_The newborn sighed through her nostrils as her eyes fluttered shut once more._

_“You don’t have anything to worry about, kid. Thunder’s only the sound that follows the lightning. Technically, it’s the sonic boom caused by the bolt ripping through the atmosphere. Nothin’ scary about that. It’s just science.”_

_The breeze turned into wind as the gust front pushed down out of the storm cell. Blossoms on the magnolia trees lining the dirt driveway began to flap as the air rushed around them. As the wind gained intensity, the petals released from the tree branches and swirled on invisible air currents before dropping onto the road. A few flew up onto the porch, drifting to a standstill at McCoy’s feet._

_“You know, Jo, your great-grandfather planted those trees.” Careful not to drop the baby, he reached down and grabbed one of the petals. Rolling the soft blossom between his fingers, he relished in its soft scent. “Your great-granny wanted magnolias, and he wasn’t the kind of man to make a woman upset.”_

_He smiled at the memories those trees brought back for him. Summers spent climbing them—the one summer he spent with his arm in a cast after tumbling out of one. He hoped Joanna would enjoy them as much as he did._

_“I’d plant a whole grove of ‘em, JoJo, if you wanted me to. It’s a promise.”_

_Even though he knew that, as this age, the smile of a newborn wasn’t genuine; he swore the baby grinned at him in her sleep, lips still firmly surrounding his pinkie finger._

_He had never felt so content, so happy. Everything he had worked for—all the endless nights studying for medical school this-or-that, the ninety hour work weeks as he toiled as an emergency room resident—it was all worth it. All his energy had been pooled for one moment: to be able to provide for his little family._

_“Daddy’s a doctor, darlin’. And that means whenever you get a boo-boo or get sick, I’ll be right there to fix you up.” He smirked in the darkness. “A word of advice though, the magnolia trees might be beautiful to look at, but stay outta them. Take if from someone who learned the hard way.”_

_Another bolt struck, this time hitting a tree at the far edge of their property. It caught fire briefly, but was soon extinguished by the torrent of rain that came pushing through with the storm front._

_“I think that’s our cue, Jo. Time to go inside.”_

_The baby slept peacefully in her father’s arms as he tried to open the old screen door without it squeaking._

XxX   XxX   XxX   XxX   XxX   XxX  

 

_“Len?”_

McCoy had never felt so relaxed in his life. The bed underneath him felt like clouds, and he seemed to be enveloped in warmth that he couldn’t explain. Even his toes tingled in the most wonderful way.

_“Len…can you hear me?”_

Furrowing his brows but never opening his eyes, he reluctantly answered. “I can hear you, dammit. Can’t a guy enjoy a little peaceful relaxation?”

He heard a snort of laughter off to his side.

_“You want me to get you a teddy bear?”_

Cracking open his eyes; he was greeted with M’Benga’s smiling face. The man tapped a few commands into the biobed and the head rose slowly.

“You really know how to ruin a guy’s fun, you know that?” McCoy took a deep breath and became more serious. “How’d I do?”

“Just perfect. No signs of anything abnormal as of yet.” The other doctor laid a hand on McCoy’s forearm. “I’m guessing you had a nice dream?”

“The best.” A soft smile graced McCoy’s lips before he craned his neck trying to see the wall chronometer.   “How long have I been out?”

M’Benga checked his watch. “A little over six hours. We figured we’d just let you sleep.”

“And you’re sure nothing went haywire?” He eyed his colleague.

“Would I lie to you?” M’Benga clapped him on the shoulder with reassurance. “Everything looks great. In fact, I dare say your brain function has actually improved.”

“Is that supposed to be a crack, Geoff?”

“Maybe.”

McCoy rolled his eyes. “How’s Jim?”

“Fidgety. He’s asked three separate nurses to let him out. He even tried to bribe Bonham.”

“Any more relapses or seizures?”

M’Benga shook his head. “No. His brain activity’s been a little off, but nothing I couldn’t control with a little bit of medication. And before you ask—yes, I checked his allergy record before administering it.”

Leonard tried not to roll his eyes. “Thanks…for everything.”

“No worries, Len.” M’Benga looked to the vitals screen. “Listen, I want keep you under observation for at least twelve more hours, just to make sure nothing will go wrong.”

“You got it.” McCoy closed his eyes with a tired sigh.

“Good. And no escaping like last time, got it?”

“I promise. Can’t say the same for Jim, though.”

M’Benga let out a hearty laugh. “We’re used to his shenanigans. He’s contained.”

_Contained?_

_Jim Kirk?_

_Good luck with that._

“Whatever you say, Geoff.”


	20. Chapter Twenty

Shot in the Dark: Chapter Twenty

 

 

“Well, I’m proud of you for not trying to escape the hoosegow today.”

McCoy smiled broadly as he tossed a small clear bag at Jim. It landed on his lap, the small chocolate candies spilling across his legs.

“What’s this for?” Jim eagerly grabbed one of the morsels and popped it in his mouth.

“Call it a reward for staying put.” Leonard raised an eyebrow as he approached. “I know you tried to bribe the nurses to let you out.”

“Did not.”

“Is that so? Well I guess I’ll just be taking this back then.” McCoy reached for the bag, only to have Jim try and push it under the blankets. Leonard snatched it from him before he could hide it. “Dirty liars don’t get treats.”

“You’re no fun. Give ‘em back.”

“Nope.”

“C’mon. Please? I’ll be good.”

“I don’t believe you.”

Kirk pouted. “Come closer and I’ll prove to you that I’m telling the truth.”

McCoy snorted and leaned in until he and Jim were millimeters apart. He felt Kirk’s hand snake up around his neck, his fingers carding through the short hairs at the base of his skull. Jim pulled him closer and closed the gap between their lips.

Leonard didn’t care if anyone were to walk in and see them. He didn’t care about Starfleet protocol or whether or not he was being professional. Nothing mattered but him and Kirk.

Jim broke the kiss and leaned back. “Do you still think I’m fibbing?”

“You’ve convinced me.” McCoy threw the candy back at him and crossed his arms over his chest with a scowl. “Well, aren’t you going to ask me if I’m okay?”

“Can’t. Too busy eating candy.” Jim’s mouth was practically overflowing with chocolate.

“You’re an asshole. I put my neck—no, _brain_ —on the line for you and you can’t even ask about my welfare?”

“I was gonna in a minute…”

“Well, I’m fine, if you want to know.” McCoy sat on the rolling stool next to Jim’s biobed. “Everything went off without a hitch. I’m confident that it’ll work when we try it again with you.”

Jim set the candies down and held his hand out to Leonard. “Are you sure you’re okay? I mean, my side-effects came later…”

“That’s because I was stupid and didn’t give you the serum.” He accepted Kirk’s hand. “I’m one-hundred-percent fine. M’Benga wouldn’t have let me out otherwise.”

“I don’t like hearing you talk about yourself like that, Bones. You’re not stupid.”

McCoy sighed. “I know that. But I did make a mistake. And I’m not going to duplicate it.”

“I trust you completely. And so does Starfleet. I don’t think they’d let just any old curmudgeon be the CMO on their flagship.”

“Watch it, dammit…just remember that ‘old curmudgeons’ tend to wield hyposprays with excessive force.”

Kirk pretended to be hurt by his remark. “I didn’t mean _you._ I was generalizing the fact that you’re young and _not_ a curmudgeon.”

Leonard leaned in and pressed his forehead against Jim’s with a snort. “Thanks, kid.”

Kirk’s voice was suddenly quieter. “When do we start?”

“No time like the present, darlin’.”

 

XxX   XxX   XxX   XxX   XxX   XxX  

 

 

_‘Maybe I shouldn’t have turned the heat up to five-hundred…’_

_Jim stood dumbfounded in the small kitchenette of the dorm suite he shared with Leonard. When they had been allowed to upgrade out of their double room, McCoy had been adamant that they request one of the few suites with a functioning kitchen, not “some goddamn replicator.” If they were going to be living together any longer, the good Doctor wanted to cook properly._

_Jim, however, had been instructed not to touch the appliances._

_His listening skills weren’t really up to par._

_Before him, in the oven, was a completely incinerated chicken. He couldn’t figure out how he had managed to burn it in a sonic oven, but there he stood looking at the smoking carcass. He grabbed it with the oven mitts and deposited it onto the stovetop._

_Fanning the smoke away with a dish towel, Jim darted to the window and opened it, allowing the offending cloud to escape before it set off the fire alarm. He coughed slightly as the acrid fog was sucked past him and out of the fifth-story window. He hoped no one on the quad below noticed._

_After a long moment, satisfied that the odor had dissipated enough, he stopped fanning the towel towards the window. He did, however, leave it open—Bones would surely have a fit if he came home to a smoky apartment._

_Jim returned to the kitchenette and surveyed the damage. The desiccated, blackened chicken sat there taunting him. Narrowing his eyes, he grabbed the baking dish and chucked it in the trash. He wasn’t about to take any crap from a piece of poultry._

_With his grand dinner plans completely ruined and time running out before McCoy’s return, Kirk knew he had to think fast. Gathering the dirty dishes and utensils he had used in his cooking attempt, he loaded them into the dishwasher before wiping down the countertops with a damp sponge._

_If he was going to eradicate all evidence of this debacle, he needed to be thorough._

_Checking his chronometer, he dashed to the comm screen and pulled up the contact list. He tapped his finger on the image of a smiling Chinese man and waited for the call to connect. Three minutes later, he had placed an order for all their favorites and began to busy himself with setting the table._

_Just as he was finishing, he heard a muffled voice from behind their front door. Familiar grumbling tumbled into the quiet suite as the door swished open._

_“…wasn’t for the goddamn Rigellian Fever, I would have been home twelve hours ago. …Yes, Mom. …I know, Mom. …Look, I gotta go. …Yes, I will. …I’ll rest, I promise. …I’ll say hello to Jim, don’t worry. …Love you too, Mom.”_

_Leonard unceremoniously dumped his knapsack next to the door as it closed, rubbing his eyes tiredly. Tossing his communicator on the small table in the entryway, he trudged into the small kitchen, immediately wrinkling his nose._

_“Jesus Christ Jim, did you murder someone in here? What’s with the smoke?”_

_Kirk sheepishly scratched the back of his neck. “Hey, Bones. I was…uhhh…hoping you wouldn’t notice that.”_

_“It’s hard not to kid; it smells like something was incinerated alive. You didn’t touch the oven, did you?”_

_“Maybe. And for your information, it was already dead way before I ever brought it home.” He stealthily pushed the garbage can behind the cupboards with his foot. “I thought I’d make some dinner for you…since you had to work a triple shift.”_

_McCoy pushed past him and threw the fridge open. He grabbed a bottle of beer and plopped down in a chair at the small table. “I’m not eating anything you cooked based on what it smells like in here.”_

_“Well, you don’t have to worry about that. It didn’t survive anyway.” Jim sat across from him. “But if you can be patient, Master Chung’s will be delivering shortly.”_

_Leonard raised a hopeful eyebrow. “Egg rolls and Chicken Chop Suey?”_

_“Extra water chestnuts, just the way you like it.”_

_McCoy sighed and took a long draught of his beer. “Well, good on ya then, kid.”_

_They sat in silence for a long moment while the Doctor made quick work of his beverage. As he stood to retrieve another, he clapped Jim on the shoulder in gratitude before opening the refrigerator once more. “You want one?”_

_“Sure.” Jim graciously accepted the cold bottle. “So, Rigellian Fever, huh?”_

_McCoy grunted as he reclaimed his vacated seat. “There’s just so much puking a man can take before he snaps. I tell ya, I’d rather deal with Andorian Shingles on my asshole than get the ‘Fever.”_

_“Sounds horrible. You don’t think you brought it home with you…”_

_“We won’t get it. I vaccinated you against it last year.”_

_Jim nodded. “Good, because I hate throwing up.”_

_“Coulda’ fooled me. By the way you deal with too much of the hooch, I’d would have thought it was your favorite pastime.”_

_“Shut up, Bones.”_

_“Gladly.” He took another swig of his beer. “When’s the food comin’?”_

_Jim craned his head back towards the kitchen to look at the stove clock. “Dunno…maybe fifteen minutes?”_

_Leonard rolled his neck back and forth, a loud popping accompanying the movement. “I’m gonna go take a quick shower before we eat. I need to hose this goddamn hospital stink off me.”_

_Kirk drank slowly from his bottle as he watched Leonard walk into the bathroom. In that moment, even though Leonard was a little cranky and stunk like antiseptic and vomit, he was glad to have him as a friend._

_Ever since they met on that shuttle, Jim had felt drawn to him. He couldn’t put his finger on what it was exactly, but he felt a kinship with the man that he had never felt with anyone else before in his entire life. And sometimes, when Jim least expected it, he felt something other than that kinship._

_He didn’t want to admit it…_

_…but he swore it was almost like—love._

_Whatever it was, Jim didn’t want it to ever go away. He wanted to keep Leonard with him forever._

_The door chime startled him out of his thoughts._

_Jumping up to answer, he made quick work of food retrieval and payment. With a smile and a hop to his step, he forgot all about the disgusting chicken in the trash and set the take-out bounty onto the table. Moments later, a clean McCoy returned, sporting tattered gym shorts and a faded Ole Miss tee shirt._

_Jim handed him a pair of chopsticks as he sat._

_“Quit tryin’ to get me to use those infernal things. They’re the devil’s tools. I can’t be expected to pick up rice with those goddamn twigs.”_

_“You’re a baby.”_

_“Shut up and eat your egg rolls, Jim.”_

_Kirk laughed heartily and shoved the fried delicacy in his mouth with a smile._

_He was glad Leonard was home._

_It was going to be a good night._

XxX   XxX   XxX   XxX   XxX   XxX  

 

“He’s stable, Len.”

McCoy stared at the vitals screen. Everything was in the green. He hesitantly allowed himself to breathe a small sigh of relief. “You think we can disconnect?”

M’Benga and Tazan exchanged glances before the older man answered. “I believe the therapy has proved useful. He does not require any further assistance from the device.”

“Then let’s switch off.” The Doctor waited a moment for the Xentian man to end the cycle before removing the band from Kirk’s head. He handed it back to Tazan, glad to—hopefully—be rid of it forever.

“We should allow him to rest for as long as possible. I’m confident the serum bridged the gap and rendered the treatment successful, but his brain still needs ample time to recover.”

“Agreed.” M’Benga tapped a command into the computer terminal before turning his attention to McCoy. “And you…need to get out of here.”

“No way, Geoff.” McCoy scowled and crossed his arms over his chest defiantly.

“Len…he’s not going anywhere. He’s sleeping—and will be for quite a while.”

“I’ve…got rounds to make.”

“No, you don’t.” M’Benga circled the bed to stand by his colleague’s side. “Go on, go to your cabin. I promise I’ll call if he wakes up before you come back. I want you to rest for at least eight hours.”

“Eight, huh?”

“That’s all I ask.”

McCoy stared down at Kirk. He didn’t want to leave—but he knew M’Benga was right. Now was the time to rest, while Jim was out. He would go back to his quarters, take a sonic shower…

_Fuck this._

_I’m going to Jim’s._

_He’s got the real deal._

“Alright, I’ll go. Comm me if—“

“—if he misbehaves. Got it.” M’Benga pointed to the door. “Now get out.”

“Fine.” McCoy patted Jim’s legs through the blankets. “Be back soon, kid.”

He wished he could lean in and kiss the young Captain goodbye. Even though the only other two occupants in the room were Tazan and M’Benga—and they both knew about their relationship—he refrained. He knew he still had to be professional in his Sick Bay. At least when there were other eyes upon them.

Walking towards the door, he rubbed the back of his aching neck.

 

XxX   XxX   XxX   XxX   XxX XxX  

 

 

Jim’s cabin was dark and quiet. The stars outside the windows seemed to float as the ship cut through space.

McCoy dropped the small knapsack he had brought with his toiletries and a change of clothes at his feet and inhaled deeply. The room smelled of Kirk’s light cologne. He scanned the dim corners, not knowing exactly what he was looking for, before making his way to the small kitchenette. On the countertop sat a bowl of fruit, and he grabbed a banana before instructing the replicator to prepare him a glass of milk.

He made quick work of the banana and beverage before tossing the peel in the small trash chute recessed into the kitchen wall. Setting the glass in the sink, he exhaled deeply and stood there for a moment, hands braced on the counter. Hanging his head, he rolled his neck from side to side, wincing at the pain from his aching muscles.

McCoy went to retrieve his bag and made his way to the bathroom. He had to cross through Jim’s bedroom to enter, and smirked as he found Kirk’s bed unmade, a pair of pants tossed hastily on the floor. Without thinking, he picked the pair of trousers up and folded them neatly, placing them on top of the dresser. A glint of silver caught his eye, and he turned his attention to a small metal frame perched on a recessed shelf above the bureau. Smiling, he picked up the photo and traced his index finger down the side.

It was a picture of him and Kirk, taken during their Academy days. Dressed in crisp cadet reds, they posed with the Golden Gate Bridge in the background, ready to head to their first day of classes. Jim had bribed McCoy to stand with him with the promise of a shot of bourbon later that night. The Doctor hated getting his picture taken, but the kid had pouted and looked so pathetic that he couldn’t refuse.

McCoy chuckled as he realized that behavior would become a pattern throughout their relationship.

Setting the frame down with a tired sigh, he contemplated just flopping down on Kirk’s bed and going to sleep, but one glance into the bathroom—and to the heavenly real-water shower contained within—made his decision a no-brainer. His muscles cried out for the warm reprieve that only a cascade of hot water could provide.

He strode into the small room, pressing his thumb against the computer panel on the wall. The lights came up quickly, bathing the space in an artificial glow. Squinting, he growled and switched them off. Deciding to keep the door open so the bedroom light would illuminate the bathroom, he stripped off his medical tunic and pants and dropped them, along with his briefs, onto the floor.

As soon as the Doctor turned the water on and it started to sluice down his back, he felt his body relax. All the stress of the day—no, days—seemed to swirl around his toes before it went down the drain. He braced himself on the tiled wall with heavy hands, hanging his head between his shoulders. The water flowed over his skin, massaging his sore muscles with invisible tendrils of heat.

He sighed as the small shower stall began to fill with steam, the fog bubbling up and over the top of the glass door and into the bathroom. He thought about everything that had happened in the last two weeks.

_Two weeks…_

_Has it really been that long?_

It seemed like only yesterday that he was being dragged into that dank prison cell on Xentia. Seemed like only hours since Jim was tortured.

_Seemed like…_

_…minutes had passed since I saved Jim’s life on that dirty floor._

Leonard shuddered as he relived the moment he delved into Jim’s chest cavity to cauterize a bleeding lung, not sure if his alien assistant would allow him to finish—or kill him right there. He removed one of his hands from the wall and stared at it, just waiting for the clear droplets of water to be replaced with thick crimson blood. Screwing his eyes shut, he let his hand fall limply to his side and rested his head against the tile.

_It’s over._

_Don’t dwell._

_He’s alive._

_You’re never going back there._

McCoy blindly reached for the shower controls and cranked the heat up on the water. He wanted to burn away any trace of that world they had left behind. He hissed as the scalding water hit his neck, but he didn’t move. Standing perfectly still, he let the burning liquid stream down his back and onto the shower floor.

The steam was so thick in the small bathroom that Leonard almost couldn’t see his hand in front of his face. But he didn’t lower the heat. He needed to feel the fire raining down on him from the chrome shower head.

His body relaxed fully as the horrid memories of those awful moments drained away along with the used water. The Doctor blew out a long breath as he made a pact with himself right there in that tiny shower stall—to never think of Xentia again.

Jim was his focus now.

And he knew he always would be. Through good times and bad—he would protect Kirk and the ship.

His life no longer belonged to ghosts on a distant alien world.

Washing up quickly and rinsing his cooling skin, he turned the water off and dried his body. Within minutes, he was dressed in clean pajamas and padded into Jim’s bedroom. Turning back the covers on the queen-sized bed that Kirk had somehow magically procured from the quartermaster, he climbed in and got settled.

When he was adequately comfortable, he commanded the lights to turn off. Laying in the darkness, he was instantly aware of how alone he felt in the giant bed. He yearned for Kirk’s unbelievable radiating heat to cuddle up next to him. He wanted to be able to wrap his arms around the young Captain as the drifted off to sleep together.

_Just a few more days, Len._

_Then all this bullshit will be over and you can resume a normal life._

_As normal as it can be with that idiot…_

Smiling softly in the darkness, he grabbed Jim’s pillow and wrapped his arms around it. A poor substitute for the real thing, but it smelled like Kirk and that was enough for McCoy.

He was lulled asleep by the hum of the engines far below him and the stars streaming past the window.

 


	21. Chapter Twenty-one

Shot in the Dark: Chapter Twenty-one

**Two Days Later**

                “I want you to take it easy, you hear me?”

Jim lounged on his sofa, dressed in sweatpants and a thin tee shirt. His eyes sparkled with life, making Leonard take pause and remind himself just how close Kirk had come to death—again.

“I promise I’ll be good. I’m going to stay right here and watch vids until you clear me for duty.”

McCoy sat down beside him with a tired sigh. “You’d better.”

“Stay with me a while?” Kirk rested his head on the Doctor’s shoulder.

“Sure. I’m off duty for the rest of the night.”

“What do you want to do?”

McCoy put his arm around Kirk. “Just sit here.”

“Do I have to be quiet?”

“That depends. Are you going to say something stupid?”

Jim curled into McCoy’s body. “Probably.”

“Then shut up.”

Jim pushed himself as close to Leonard’s side as he could with a heavy sigh and they sat in the quiet of the cabin for several long moments. The young Captain finally broke the silence just as McCoy’s eyes were closing.

“Bones?”

The Doctor grumbled and forced his eyes back open. “Jesus, Jim…I was just about to fall asleep.”

“Sorry…” Kirk sat up and faced his CMO. “I was just thinking about Mak’ai. I’m really going to miss her.”

“Me too, kid. But she’s going to make one hell of an addition to the Academy.” Leonard put his feet up on the coffee table. “Starfleet’ll be lucky to have her.”

“Yeah.” Jim shifted his weight and winced audibly.

McCoy’s ears instantly pricked up at the noise. A million horrible thoughts started running through his brain. What if he had released him too soon from Medical? Was he having an adverse reaction to the treatment? “You okay, Jim?”

“Just some stiff muscles, that’s all.”

Leonard eyed him suspiciously. “You sure? Don’t lie to me.”

Kirk sat up and turned to face him. Grabbing his face gently in the palms of his hands, Jim brought their foreheads together. “Bones…you worry too much. I’m fine. I’m going to stay fine. You can stop fretting.”

“I don’t fret, Jim. It’s a legitimate concern. And I have _plenty_ of said concerns. I worry every goddamn minute that the new settings on Tazan’s machine will backfire somehow. That you’ll pop an artery from my hasty field surgery. That you’ll…”

Kirk quickly crushed his lips against that of the Doctor. After a long moment, he broke the connection. “I told you I’m _fine_.” Jim laid his head on Leonard’s shoulder. “As long as I have you, I’ll always be okay.”

McCoy let out a long breath. “As long as you don’t act like a damn fool every time you set foot off this ship, you’ll be okay.” The doctor felt Jim smile into his shirt. “You realize you’ve aged me a good ten years since I’ve known you, right?”

“You love it and you know it.”

“Shut up, Jim.”

 

XxX   XxX   XxX   XxX   XxX   XxX  

 

“Spock! C’mon in and take a load off!”

“Thank you, Captain.” He crossed the threshold of the door. “Doctor McCoy informed me that you are now able to have visitors, but that under no circumstances am I to, and I quote, “rile you up.”    

“I didn’t think you guys were capable of that anyway.”

Spock just stared at him silently.

Kirk ushered his Vulcan First Officer and pointed to a plush chair in the small living room. He scurried to the couch and haphazardly cleared the vid chips from the coffee table in an attempt to make the area more presentable.

“Sorry about the mess, I wasn’t expecting company.”

“You need not apologize for the… _condition_ of your quarters. It is your own personal space and it is your prerogative to keep it as you see fit.”

“That’s a pretty roundabout way of calling me a slob, Spock.”

The Vulcan sat. “I did nothing of the sort, Captain. Everyone is entitled to their own housekeeping regimen—however sparse it may be.”

“Hey give me a break, I’m recovering here. I’m not supposed to be doing anything strenuous.”

Spock didn’t reply.

Kirk scratched the back of his neck. “So, what brings you around today?”

Spock handed him a PADD. “There are several reports that require your signature. Also, Lieutenant Uhura has finished her research on the Xentian language with the help of Mak’ai and would like to present her findings to you in the near future.”

“Why didn’t she just come and see me herself?”

“She was reluctant. She said she did not want to bother you.”

Kirk smiled. “Well, you tell her that she’s welcome any time.”

“Affirmative, Captain.”

“Was that all? Seems like an awful lot of trouble to go to just to deliver some reports.”

Spock shifted in his seat, and Kirk could almost swear he saw a little twinkle of—something—in his eyes.

“I do not understand your meaning.”

“C’mon, Spock. You were worried about me and wanted to make sure I was okay.”

“Worry is an emotion, Captain. I assure you that was not the case, as Vulcans do not express emo—“

“Nevermind.” Jim leaned back into the couch. His muscles relaxed as he got comfortable. It felt so good to be back in his own cabin and not in Sick Bay. “So, what’s new on the bridge? Any good gossip?”

“Vulcans do not gossip.”

Kirk rolled his eyes. “Oh, lighten up, Spock!”

The First Officer exhaled deeply, almost as if he was annoyed with his Captain. “Is there anything else you require of me?”

“We never did get to finish that chess game from a few weeks back. What do you say?” Kirk raised his eyebrows hopefully.

“Perhaps I can spare a few moments.”

Jim clapped his hands in front of his body and jumped up to retrieve the game from a corner table. Just as he almost had his hands on the board, the door chime pinged. Jim sighed. “I guess chess will have to wait—again.”

He made his way to the door and swiped his thumb over the glowing button. The door slid open to reveal Mak’ai, a plate of tiny pastries balanced on her clawed hands.

“Mak’ai, please come in! You didn’t have to bring anything, you know.” Kirk ushered her into his cabin with a wink.

“It’s really nothing, Captain. Just some simple sweets my mother used to make. I was able to program some Xentian ingredients into the replicator system and tried to remember her recipe. Some things could never be replaced, but I think I got it right.” She handed the plate to Jim. “And I’ve already checked with Doctor McCoy—he says it’s safe to eat with your allergy restrictions.”

Kirk rolled his eyes and smiled. “I know he means well, but he’s annoying with those allergy regulations sometimes.”

“He’s just keeping you safe.”

“He’s had lots of practice.” He pointed her towards the couch, where Spock had stood to greet her. “Mak’ai, you remember Mister Spock?”

“Of course. It’s a pleasure to see you again.” Mak’ai extended her thin hand, which Spock shook firmly.

“Likewise, Mak’ai.” Spock turned to Jim, who had set the plate down on the table and was trying to choose a cake to sample. “I shall leave you to speak privately.”

Mak’ai gently grabbed Spock’s forearm, causing the Vulcan to flinch slightly. Kirk snorted and tried to hide his amusement.

“Please don’t go, Mister Spock. I have news that I think you will both be interested in. After all, you are second-in-command.” She motioned for him to sit once again.

Spock raised an eyebrow before taking his seat once again. Jim patted the cushion next to him for Mak’ai to sit. He offered the plate of treats to Spock, who politely refused. Pouting at his snub , Kirk replaced the dish on the table and turned to his other guest.

“So, what’s the news?”

“N’Jal has been given temporary leadership of the Capitol City. There was an impromptu election—just a ‘yea’ or ‘nay’ vote—and she won unanimously.”

“That’s incredible!” Kirk was beaming. “I know she’ll do wonderfully.”

“Yes, I have the utmost faith in her. The people are just happy that Ka’al is gone and that someone was willing to take his place—as a fair leader. Granted, there is still abundant poverty and turmoil in terms of the future of Xentia, but the people have shown through democracy—not tyranny—that they want change. We all know restoration won’t happen overnight, but I’m confident N’Jal will be a champion for revival.”

“How can you be so sure? She has little to no experience presiding over a governmental body.” Spock sat stiff-backed on the edge of his seat. “I do not mean to be rude, but perhaps a more seasoned veteran would be better suited to be head-of-state.”

Mak’ai nodded slowly and sighed. “I understand your concern, Mister Spock. But the fact of the matter is, we don’t have any other choice. Ka’al murdered all remaining government officials soon after he took power. The simple truth is—there is no one left with the experience you speak of. N’Jal is the best choice under the circumstances—and the only one willing to take on the mantle of leader.”

“Then I wish her well in her endeavor. It will be a difficult task for her.”

“Yes, it will be. But one she will tackle with power and integrity. She won’t fail. If Ka’al’s horrible reign has taught us any valuable lessons, it’s that wielding an iron fist will only make the people stronger when it comes time to rebel. She’s got a good head on her shoulders and will be a fair and just leader—as long as the people will have her.”

“She’ll do wonderfully. From what I remember of her, she didn’t take any garbage. She’ll get Xentia back on its feet.” Kirk finished the last of his dessert. “These little cakes were to die for, Mak’ai. I don’t know what you put in them—but I’m sure going to miss this when you go off to the Academy.”

“I’ll be sure to add them to the replicator’s memory banks, Captain.” The alien woman winked.

“Good.” Jim reached for another, but stopped himself short. “Better not, or Bones’ll rag on me for eating too much.”

“Most likely a wise decision, Captain.” Spock’s voice was monotone.

“Thanks, Spock.” Kirk turned his attention back to Mak’ai. “What of Ka’al’s men? And all the hostages he took?”

“Most of his soldiers took the coward’s way and ended their own pathetic lives or were killed by the masses in the square. They didn’t want to live under N’Jal and her democratic ways. I say good riddance. As for the hostages, they have all been freed and most of them—meaning the scientists, doctors and teachers—threw themselves back into their previous roles almost instantly. Everyone wants the old Xentia back.” She sighed heavily and looked down at her hands for a moment. “It will take hard work and dedication from all of our people, but our culture will return to its former glory. Xentia will rise again and the Goddess will smile upon us.”

“Well, do a good job and hopefully the Federation will grant you entry.” Kirk smiled hopefully.

“Captain, you cannot promise that. You do not speak for the Federation Admissions Council.” Spock raised an eyebrow in his commander’s direction.

“I know that, Spock. I wasn’t saying I’d personally grant them full Federation benefits, I was merely making a hopeful assumption.”

Spock just stared silently at the young Captain.

Kirk shifted uncomfortably on the couch and cleared his throat before speaking again. “And what about Ka’al’s…body?”

“N’Jal had a few of her most trusted advisors take it out to the forest and burn it. It was private, no public attention. We just want to forget about him—about what he did to our people. A physical representation of his death—even as a reminder of his tyranny—would just invite trouble.”

“Agreed. They took the right course of action.” Jim leaned back and threw his arm over the back of the couch. “And what’s to become of you, Mak’ai? I hope you won’t abandon your education.”

“In all truthfulness, Captain, I almost did. I felt compelled to stay and help rebuild my culture and to help the people of Xentia. Even though I would be devastated to give up my dreams of a Starfleet education, my heart was telling me to stay.” She paused for a long moment before continuing with a smile. “But…N’Jal convinced me to go.”

“She did? How?”

“She hit me.”

Kirk’s mouth hung open in shock. “She hit…you?”

Mak’ai burst out into laughter. “Yes. In our culture, when one is trying to make a valid point, it is customary to strike the other participant in the conversation across the back. It’s like saying, ‘don’t be a fool’.”

“It seems like you took her advice.”

“I want nothing more than to make my countrymen proud and to honor the memory of my parents and brother. I know that if they had all lived to see that I had a hand in freeing our people from that tyrant, they would have beamed with pride. I can take that one step further and fulfill my dream of becoming a doctor—and maybe one day even a CMO on a starship.” Mak’ai puffed her chest out full. “I will make sure my people and my planet regain their honor.”

“I have no doubt that you will be successful. You’re going to make a great doctor.” The corners of Kirk’s eyes crinkled as he smiled.

“I don’t plan on disappointing, Captain.” The alien woman rose, her skin glowing bright blue. A broad smile crossed her thin reptilian lips. “I wish I could stay and chat longer, but I must visit Doctor McCoy before my shuttle leaves. I’m, as you would say in your vernacular, ‘hitching a ride at the next space station’.”

“You’re going to do just fine at the Academy, I can tell already.” Kirk rose along with her, as did Spock. He held his arms out wide and beckoned Mak’ai towards him. “I’m not letting you leave without a hug.”

Mak’ai moved forward and wrapped her arms around the Captain’s neck. Her voice was barely above a whisper. “Thank you, Jim…for everything.”

“No—thank _you_. You helped save my life—twice.” His tone was also hushed.

The pair separated and Jim smiled genuinely. “Don’t be a stranger, got it? I expect regular updates on your progress.”

“Absolutely.” She turned to Spock and extended her hand. “I hope to see you again, Mister Spock. Thank you for your hospitality while I was on board your ship.”

“No need to thank me, Mak’ai. And I wish you the best of luck in your studies.”

She bowed her head and turned to leave. As he clawed finger activated the door, she whirled around to face the two men one last time. “Xentia will once again be great because of your fearlessness, Captain. The people will never forget what you’ve done.”

Jim nodded silently and watched as she slipped out the door.

 

XxX   XxX   XxX   XxX   XxX   XxX  

 

“He didn’t eat all those treats, did he?”

McCoy looked up from the medical charts on his computer screen. Mak’ai made her way towards his desk and sat down with a laugh.

“No. Mister Spock reminded him that you would not be amused should he gorge himself.”

“Hmph. Well, I guess that green-blooded creep is worth having around sometimes after all.” McCoy’s lips curled into a tiny smile. “Can I get you something? Crappy replicated coffee, perhaps?”

“No, thank you. I can only stay a short time. My shuttle leaves at oh-nine-thirty.”

“That’s right…you’re leavin’ us for the big time. Keep your head up at the Academy, they don’t mess around.”

Mak’ai’s scales glistened cerulean. “So I’ve heard. Ensign Chekov already warned me about a few key professors.”

“Listen to that kid. He knows his shit.” McCoy leaned back in his chair and laced his fingers behind his head with a sly smirk on his face. “I’m really going to miss you, young lady.”

“The feeling is mutual, Leonard. You saved me—and my people. I can never repay you or Captain Kirk for all you and the crew have done.” She sighed. “But I will try my hardest to make you proud by succeeding at Starfleet Academy. Perhaps we will work together someday here on the _Enterprise._ ”

“That would be an honor, Missy.” Leonard took a sip of his coffee. “You have your courses picked out?”

“Yes. I ranked in the ninetieth percentile for incoming students, so I got more choices than I could have ever imagined. I’m most interested in the class on Earth History.”

“You’ll get an earful, that’s for sure. A lot of heavy stuff went down in the past—before we all learned that droppin’ nukes and killin’ each other wasn’t the answer to anything.”

Mak’ai nodded slowly. “Every world has their dark times. It makes the future generations better to learn from their predecessor’s mistakes.”

“Ain’t that the truth. Too bad it took the Earthlings so damn long to figure that out.” The Doctor paused for a moment before speaking again. “Say, Mak’ai…can I ask you something?”

“Of course.”

McCoy hesitated for a long moment. There had been something eating at him since they left the surface of Xentia, even through the struggles with Jim and his own recovery. He didn’t know if he wanted to hear what he was pretty sure was going to come out of her mouth, but he decided he needed to know.

“After we made a run for it—to chase Ka’al…there was a guard there. Big burly guy. He helped us get away.”

“Ah, yes.” Her eyes saddened, and McCoy knew what she was going to say. “I’m sorry, Leonard. He was killed by the crowd. He didn’t even put up a fight.”

McCoy felt the color drain from his cheeks. Even though he had prepared himself for the worst in many a midnight worry session, finally hearing it wasn’t any easier.

_He had a future._

_He could have redeemed himself._

_He was a good man._

“He didn’t have to pay any penance—especially with his life. He didn’t want to follow Ka’al anymore. He knew he could get out.”

“Our culture is very much based on honor. I know it may be difficult for you to understand, but there have very well been a part of him who, even though he knew he could start over, believed that there was no other way to redeem himself but to die.”

“I just wish I could have helped him. Jim could have died if it weren’t for his assistance.” McCoy eyed his desk drawer longingly. “Goddammit.”

“Had you tried to help him, he more than likely would have pushed you away. His mind was probably made up the moment the uprising started.” She leaned forward and reached towards the Doctor, who mirrored her movements and allowed her to take his hands in hers. “His last honor—was helping you both survive. I am positive he allowed himself to die at peace.”

“Still doesn’t make it any easier to hear.”

Mak’ai squeezed his hands before letting go. “Perhaps it will in time.” She checked her chronometer and exhaled deeply. “I need to go.”

McCoy stood and rounded his desk. “C’mon then, give us a hug, now.”

Mak’ai obliged, her skin glittering with a rolling mixture of blue and yellow. Tears began to roll from her cheeks. “I will never forget you, Leonard.”

“Hey now, no cryin’. You comm me whenever you want to, alright? This isn’t goodbye.”

The woman pulled away from him. “Even at three in the morning?”

McCoy winked. “Yes, but I can’t guarantee that I’ll be in a good mood.”

“Fair enough.” Mak’ai wiped the tears from her eyes. “Thank you for everything you have done for not only me, but my people. We owe you and Captain Kirk a debt we can never repay.”

“Bullshit, lady. You don’t owe us a damn thing.” He crossed his arms over his chest. “Now you get out of here and make me proud at the Academy.”

“Yes, Sir!” She smiled mischievously.

McCoy rolled his eyes. “That shit’s reserved for Jim.”

Mak’ai laughed and turned towards the door. “Take care of him, Leonard. He loves you more than you will ever know.”

She left, Leonard’s eyes following her as she made her way through Sick Bay and out into the corridor. He stood for a long moment in his silent office with his thoughts. He remembered back to their first encounter, when Spock had a phaser pointed at her head and Jim lay bleeding to death on the floor. How she had risked her life for complete strangers and offered her home to them when Kirk was at death’s door.

As he sat back in his chair, his memories remained bleak and dark as he replayed the events of the last few weeks. It was like a broken record—Jim does something stupid, Jim gets hurt, Jim needs his life saved, Jim pulls through and Leonard vows to kill him next time it happens.

He sighed and opened his lower desk drawer. Pushing aside a few holo-discs, he revealed a metallic object. Dull and spattered with red flecks of Kirk’s blood, he pulled the small flask out and held it in his hands. He could still hear the remnants of the liquid sloshing around inside.

Kogas had told him to keep it—and he would do just that.

He leaned forward and rested his elbows on the desk as he unscrewed the cap. The malty aroma immediately infiltrated his nostrils. Inhaling the scent deeply one last time, he raised the vessel to the sky in a small toast of honor before downing the remaining brew. McCoy winced as the liquid burned his throat.

_For you, Kogas._

Leonard capped the container once more and, after giving the surface a quick buff with the bottom of his tunic, returned it to the drawer.

Not pausing to dwell on the past any more, he focused his attention back to the backlog of charts he had to deal with before he could escape to Jim’s quarters for the night.

 

 

 


	22. Shot in the Dark:  Chapter Twenty-two and Epilogue

Shot in the Dark: Chapter Twenty-two

                Jim Kirk sat in his cabin, staring blankly at his holo-screen. He didn’t know if he could handle another movie about giant space bees. He had already watched three—and there were three more in the series. Throwing the remote control onto the couch next to him with an annoyed huff, he looked around the room to try and find something to keep him occupied.

He scanned the bookshelf on the far wall, squinting to see the titles. When he was almost positive he had read every single volume, he sighed and tried to locate another activity. The chess board sat on an end table, pieces ready for an epic battle of minds. Problem was, there was only one of him—and he was pretty sure playing chess against himself would be pretty sad.

Reaching forward to rifle through the vid chips on the coffee table, he briefly contemplated watching another film—possibly space spiders this time—but quickly shot his own idea down. He collapsed back into the plush cushions of the sofa and let out an audible groan.

Boredom was definitely starting to set in.

Bones wouldn’t let him out of his cabin without an escort; even then, it was only to Sick Bay. He desperately wanted to go to the bridge, to see his crew—to get back to work.

His body felt fine, his mind sharp. There we no nightmares, no flashbacks, nothing that could hamper his ability to command. Nothing Jim said or did seemed to convince his CMO that he was fit for duty.

McCoy, he decided, was just being mean.

Pouting even though no one was around to see it, Kirk finally rose and stretched his arms over his head. He shuffled over to his small kitchenette and rooted around in the cabinets. He scowled as he found none of the treats and little nibbles that he had acquired from the last supply delivery. Captain’s prerogative ensured that he always had his favorite junk food items on-hand.

That was, until McCoy had purged his kitchen and hiding places of anything unhealthy. The Doctor had claimed it was for his own good, but Jim disagreed.

Reaching into the very back of the highest cupboard, he raked his fingers over the smooth—and very empty—metal. With a growl and an expletive, he resigned to the fact that Bones had cleared out even his best hiding places.  

But the young Captain would not be deterred.

Smirking with determination, he realized he could outsmart his adversary. He padded over to the replicator and activated it.

“Computer, hot fudge sundae with whipped cream and peanuts.”

The device buzzed angrily and the screen turned red. _“Item not authorized.”_

Jim smiled slyly and tapped his fingers together. He knew just what to do in this situation.

“Computer, override. Authorization Kirk-three-nine-delta.”

_“Authorization denied. Medical override.”_

“You have got to be kidding me!” Kirk stomped his foot. This little trick of his always worked. He could feel his face flush at the fact that he had been bested. Flipping the defenseless computer the bird, Jim trudged back to the couch and plopped down. Disappointment set in as he realized that he would probably never again be able to eat forbidden treats.

He sat in silence for a long moment, wallowing in his sadness for his loss. Jim vowed to get even with McCoy.

The door chimed and, looking at his chronometer, Kirk surmised it could only be one person.

“Dammit, Bones…you had better have a good explanation for the replicator! Door’s open!”

It slid open and, to Jim’s surprise it didn’t reveal Leonard McCoy.

There, standing in the corridor— _actually standing_ —was Christopher Pike.

He held a silver-tipped walking stick tightly in his right hand, steadying himself.

“Admiral! I’m…so sorry about answering the door like that!” Kirk moved to stand.

“Don’t get up, James.” He slowly moved into the cabin, the door swooshing closed behind him. He motioned to the chair beside the couch with his cane. “May I?”

“Of course.”

Pike eased himself into the chair with a slight wince, followed by a sigh. He leaned the walking stick against the armrest before turning his attention to the young Captain. “Do I even want to know about the ‘replicator thing’?”

“Probably not.” Jim leaned forward to shake Pike’s hand. “Admiral, forgive me if I sound disrespectful…but what are you doing here?”

“I hitched a ride on a freighter. ‘Snuck on board at the space station. I was getting tired of talking to you over subspace frequencies.”

“A freighter? Not very befitting of an Admiral.” Jim smirked.

“Well, when situations involve you and the need to _get to you_ …one can’t be picky. Besides, I didn’t want the rest of the Admiralty up my ass, if you know what I mean.”

Jim chuckled. “It’s good to see you, Sir.”

“Likewise. You look like you’re on the mend.”

“I could say the same of you. It’s…wonderful to see you out of that chair.”

Pike tapped his fingers on the handle of his cane. “It’s wonderful to _be_ out of the chair. My legs and spine are still weak, and will more than likely never recover fully—but that’s just something I’ll have to live with.” He inhaled deeply before letting out his breath. His expression was stern, but caring. “But that’s not what I came all this way to talk about.”

Jim’s shoulders drooped. He knew the lecture was coming—and that he deserved it. “Admiral, I…”

Pike held up a hand. “Don’t talk, James. Just listen.”

Kirk’s mouth snapped shut and he obeyed.

“I’ve read all the reports. I’ve talked with McCoy. I know what happened down there. I know why you did what you had to do.”

“I’m so sorry, Admiral. Some of my actions down on the surface were rooted in personal emotions, and it almost got me and my entire team killed.”

“Now, I’ll be the first to admit that I was mad as hell when I first found out what you did. I mean, surrendering to a maniac just to go after a member of your crew? You do realize just how many rules you broke just by doing that, right?”

Jim nodded solemnly.

“But…after talking with your CMO, I came to realize you actually performed with the utmost valor and sacrifice I think I’ve ever seen in an officer—or man.” Pike stared at him silently for a moment.

“I let my emotions get the better of me, Sir.”

“James, someone you care about deeply was ripped away from you. And then on top of it, you were tortured and left for dead. I can’t say I wouldn’t have acted the same way.” Pike leaned forward to look his young protégé straight in the eyes. “Ka’al was a tyrant. He needed to be stopped. He genuinely threatened your life and those of your away team in his office. While the manner in which he died is, shall we say—cloudy…” Pike’s eyes hinted at his implied deception. “…the fact of the matter is that he needed to be removed from power. You could have showed a little more self-control in doing so, but the job got done and the people of Xentia have been saved.”

“It still doesn’t change the fact that I acted irrationally. It’s no excuse, and I’m prepared to take responsibility.”

“Listen, I know about war. I know about split-second decisions. I know that in the heat of battle, shit happens—pardon my French.” The older man’s eyes twinkled as he smiled. “You were under the influence of a mind-altering device, flooded with adrenaline and doing what you thought was best to save not only your crew but an entire city as well.”

“I killed Ka’al in cold blood!” Jim’s face flushed red and his voice echoed off the walls. He immediately regretted losing his cool in front of his mentor and friend—not to mention one of the most influential Admirals in the entire fleet. “Admiral, please forg—“

“James…it’s been taken care of.” Pike’s voice was calm and matter-of-fact.

Kirk licked his dry lips. His expression was one of confusion and relief. “I don’t understand. How?”

“Don’t underestimate the power of clout, kid.”

“Clout?”

“Yes. As in ‘I have a lot of it’. I made sure the brass saw it my way.”

Kirk was in absolute shock. The moment he saw Pike enter his cabin, he thought for sure he was on his way out the door for his actions. “Your way?”

“I put my own ass on the line and agreed on your behalf that you’d have a complete medical and psychological workup. You’ll also have to undergo a competency hearing, per standard procedure. It shouldn’t take more than a day and Starfleet has agreed to let you do it over subspace channels.”

“But what if they don’t clear me?”

“They will.”

Jim’s voice shook slightly. “But…”

_“They will.”_

In an instant, Kirk felt at ease. Maybe it was Pike’s tone, maybe his words—hell, maybe it was just the sheer fact that he was sitting right there in front of him—but he knew everything was going to be alright. Kirk felt it in his bones that the Admiral spoke the truth, and that he wouldn’t be losing his commission. The man’s soft voice snapped him out of his thoughts.

“As far as I’m concerned, this agreement with Starfleet for check-ups is just a formality. The only thing that matters here is that you are alive and well, the ship is safe and was never damaged and the Xentians have their planet back. You acted well within your rights—and the tenets of Starfleet regulation.” Pike sat back in the chair once more, draping his arms on the armrests. “You and your CMO did one hell of a job down there. You should be proud.”

Jim couldn’t help the small smile that crossed his lips at the mention of McCoy. He figured from Pike’s comment earlier about ‘someone he cared about being ripped away’ meant that the older man knew about their relationship, but he couldn’t be sure. He decided to tread lightly until he could confirm it.

“I would be dead if it weren’t for the heroism of Doctor McCoy. I hope Starfleet will consider a commendation for him for his actions. I would be more than happy to write any letter of recommendations that are needed.”

Pike shook his head and smiled. “Listen to yourself, Jim. I know you’re trying so hard to be professional when it’s written all over your face.”

Kirk tried to play it cool. “I don’t understand what you’re getting at, Sir.”

“You and Doctor McCoy are in a relationship. And I want you to know that I’m totally supportive of it—as long as you keep your personal lives personal and professional lives the same.”

Jim was dumbfounded, even though he knew deep down he shouldn’t be. Christopher Pike was a kind and understanding man, and a good friend. If anyone would be alright with them, it would be him. But it was apparent from his tone with the last phrase that he also meant business when it came to Starfleet.

“I don’t know what to say, Admiral. Thank you.”

“You don’t have to say anything. Love is powerful and ultimately needed in our lives. It makes us who we are and we can’t deny it—even when we want to. Just don’t let it interfere with any Federation business.” Pike pointed a warning finger at the young Captain. “Because if it does, I’ll deal with you both…and you won’t like it.”

Jim smiled appreciatively. “Understood, Admiral.”

“Good.” Pike stretched his back into the plush chair. “So, I’m on board for a few more hours before I can catch a proper ride back to Earth…what do you do for fun around here?”

Kirk smiled broadly. “How’s about a game of chess?”

 

XxX   XxX   XxX   XxX   XxX   XxX  

 

**The Next Day**

“God, this uniform never felt so good.”

Captain Kirk straightened his gold command tunic as he readied himself to leave for his first day back on duty in more than two weeks.

“Just make sure you take it easy, alright?”

Jim turned to look at Leonard, lounging on his couch. His arms were crossed over his stomach, his brows furrowed.

“I’ll be fine, Bones. I’m just going to be sitting in a chair the whole time. What could go wrong?”

“Would you like me to list everything? Alphabetical order or by the type of injury you might sustain?” McCoy rose and moved towards the young Captain. The Doctor came around behind him and wrapped his arms gently around his waist. “I mean it; go slow today…and for the next week. I don’t want you back in medical for anything other than what I’m sure will be countless annoying visits.”

Jim swiveled around to face him. “It wouldn’t be the same if I didn’t.” He placed his lips lightly on that of his CMO. They stayed that way for what seemed like eternity to Kirk before the older man pulled away and released his embrace.

“You’re a fucking infant, you know that?”

Kirk winked. “That’s ‘Captain Infant’ to you.”

“Shut up and let’s go. You’re going to be late.” McCoy walked to the door and opened it. “And wipe that shit-eating grin off of your face. You look like a fool.”

Jim stuck his tongue out at the Doctor, causing the older man to roll his eyes as they made their way into the corridor. As they walked to the turbolift, crew members stopped to salute their Captain, or welcome him back to duty. Kirk acknowledged them with smiles and thank-you’s, and a few firm handshakes.

Everyone seemed genuinely happy to see him back in the saddle.

They stopped at the lift and waited for it to respond. The doors swooshed open and McCoy ushered him inside. They both took a deep breath—in unison—when the doors closed.

“You sure you’re ready, kid? I’d be more than happy to authorize another day or two off.”

“I’ve never been more ready in my life. I need to get back into the swing of things.” Kirk inhaled deeply and closed his eyes, letting his head thump against the metallic wall of the lift car. “I’m a Captain…I need to be in my chair.”

“Just promise me—“

Jim’s eyes snapped open and he stopped the lift with a swipe of this thumb. He moved towards Leonard. “I’m not going anywhere, Bones. I’m not going to get hurt. I’m going to pace myself. Everything’s gonna be okay.” He quickly kissed him before resuming the lift’s movement.

“You certainly know how to charm a guy, you know that?” McCoy’s hand lingered in Jim’s for a few seconds, only removing it right before the doors opened.

Kirk smirked and took a deep breath as he strode out of the cab.

_“Captain on the bridge!”_

XxX   XxX   XxX   XxX   XxX   XxX  

 

Epilogue

_“When are you going to come to bed?”_

Kirk’s fingers flew over his keypad, his eyes flitting back and forth as he scanned the planned agenda of the next few months. Planetary surveys, supply runs, and even a little bit of shore leave for the crew. After all, after what happened over the last few months—it was well deserved.

“I’ll be there in a minute.”

_“You said that a half hour ago.”_ The voice from the bedroom sounded annoyed—and exhausted. McCoy had spent the better part of the last forty-eight hours in Sick Bay thanks to a plethora of ailments from crew members, the worst of which required him to be in surgery for more than half a day. Kirk knew he was tired.

But he also knew he wouldn’t sleep until he joined him.

Even though he still had a few files to look over, he decided it could wait until morning. The prospect of a warm bed—and an even warmer bed-mate—was too inviting. And he hated to admit it, especially to Bones, but he was completely knackered.

“I’m shutting down now, I promise.”

Kirk powered down and rose from his desk chair, popping his neck with a side-to-side roll. Padding into the small bedroom, he found McCoy lounging with a PADD resting on his stomach, fighting to keep his eyes from fluttering shut. He approached the bed and pulled back the sheets. Leonard’s eyes shot open.

“Hey, you’re letting the cold air in!”

Jim hurriedly scrambled under the covers and he curled up next to his partner. He devilishly pressed his bare feet up against McCoy’s legs.

“Goddammit, Jim! Your feet are like ice!”

The young Captain giggled like a child. “I know…”

“You bastard. Get away from me.” Leonard pushed him from his personal space as he tossed his PADD to the carpeted floor.

Kirk just laughed as he commanded the lights off. After a moment, he tried to snuggle back into McCoy’s arms—and was successful. They pair laid in the darkness until McCoy broke the silence.

“Just what were you looking at, anyway?”

Jim sighed. “Just the next few months’ worth of paperwork. It seems like we’re going to be seeing some pretty interesting places.”

“Oh yeah, like what? I’m guessing its planets where you can get yourself into all kinds of trouble.”

Kirk snorted. “You’re always looking for the worst-case scenario.”

“That’s because you’re a walking worst-case scenario.” He hugged Jim close to his body before leaning over to plant a kiss on the man’s forehead. “But you’re _my_ worst-case scenario.”

“You wouldn’t want it any other way.”

“I beg to differ.” Leonard exhaled deeply and let his eyes close. “So, tell me a bedtime story of all these fantastic and I’m sure allergy-inducing worlds.”

“Well, there’s this one called Nibiru…”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Author’s Note: Well, here it is. It took me the better part of seventeen months, several temper tantrums and a much needed break to get mojo back—but this series is finally finished. 
> 
> I want to thank my beta, QuietRaine for all her hard work and support. This is a journey we made together and I’m so thankful for everything you’ve done for me! 
> 
> Thank you to everyone who has reviewed/followed/favorited. I know that there were some big gaps in updates, but you know—life happens. (And for those of you who are interested, Dissociation is up next and will be finished…hopefully quickly, because…)
> 
> My next writing venture will be starting soon—a piece of original fiction. I’m both excited and terrified. Don’t worry, I won’t abandon my fanfic writing, but don’t expect any multi-chap stuff anymore (or at least for a very long time.) I have a number of oneshots in various stages of completion that will make appearances from time-to-time, probably when I need a break from my novel.
> 
> If you want to keep up with my writing progress and journey, you can follow my blog. I swear a lot—and write about the band A-ha (my other passion.) https://authorbebedora.wordpress.com/ 
> 
> Thank you again to everyone. Your reviews were wonderful to read and so very kind, and they meant the world to me. I’m so happy that you all could enjoy this adventure, and that you all were so supportive.
> 
> All my love,
> 
> Bebedora.


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